


when the prison doors are opened

by alternatedoom



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Katara (Avatar), Animal Killed For Food, Canon Disabled Character, Consensual Underage Sex, Don't Copy To Another Site If You're Trying To Make Money Off Fanfic, Dubiously consensual voyeurism, Ensemble Cast, Gay Chicken, I Wanted To Make This Gen But Oh Well, M/M, Medical Care, Not Beta Read, POV Sokka (Avatar), Pretty Sure That Makes You The Bad Guy, Sickfic, Situational Humiliation, Slice of Life, This Is My First WIP, Trust Issues, Underage Kissing, Underage Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 71,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternatedoom/pseuds/alternatedoom
Summary: The Gaang is not so quick to trust Zuko.
Relationships: Aang & Katara & Sokka & Toph & Zuko & Teo & Haru & The Duke (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Teo & Toph Beifong, Teo & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Zuko
Comments: 118
Kudos: 430





	1. Taking A Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. In which Zuko returns to his camp after helping the Gaang with Combustion Man, and the group does not trust him based on that single fight + its aftermath. In which Zuko becomes the Gaang's prisoner, spends a few days tied up, and has to use his words a lot more. I know there are a number of 'the Gaang finds out how Zuko got the scar' stories, but I wanted to write my own.  
> 2\. Edit: upon reflection, as I've been working on part two, this does not feel like a separate and independent set of stories to me, and so I am nixing the series and renaming the fic. Future installments will just be additional chapters.  
> 3\. Accordingly, the rating and archive warnings will escalate in future chapters. I will be updating the rating and tags as I go.  
> 4\. Some dialogue taken directly from _The Western Air Temple_.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Has the most basic descriptions of considering how to handle a prisoner's bodily functions. Super mild, not a big deal unless that particularly squicks you. But if you're like me and read a book going "okay but how did they go to the bathroom?" you'll love it.  
> 2\. Contains one sexist remark, cause Sokka hasn't 100% shaken it, and one reference to ableism.

The morning is pleasantly cool and sunny, and after breakfast, Toph leads them in the direction of Zuko's camp.

"Oh man," Sokka says ten minutes into their walk, coming to a realization and groping at his belt. "I forgot the gag."

Katara squeezes her hands into fists and sighs in an exasperated way, and just like that their group progression through the woods grinds to a halt. "Sokka, you had one job! Well, go back and get it."

"I remembered the rope," Sokka protests. "If the gag was that important, you should have taken responsibility for it."

"You said you'd bring the stuff to tie him up, that includes the gag!"

"I was including the rope and my incredible knot know-how?" Sokka says sheepishly, because yeah, this was totally his bad. And after Katara emphasized the critical importance of the gag. Oops.

"Sokka this isn't a joke," Katara says, not disguising her irritation with him. "What we're doing is dangerous. This is _Zuko_."

"Guys, we're almost there," Toph says. "Who cares, we can gag him as soon as we get back."

"I care," Katara says, but reluctantly she adds, "Fine."

"Why wait?" The Duke asks, and he bends down and removes a boot, then strips off his sock and holds it up.

"The Water Tribe doesn't engage in torture," Sokka says, which is not necessarily true at all, but he's allowed to be facetious. The Duke stuffs the sock into a pocket of his tunic instead of putting it back on with his boot, as though he hasn't fully accepted that his unwashed socks are a level of savagery Sokka would barely consent to inflict upon the Fire Lord, and certainly no one of a lesser magnitude of evil. Then they resume walking.

"Don't forget, we need to know the second he lies," Katara reminds Toph.

"You got it," Toph says.

A couple of minutes later, Toph leads them into Zuko's little makeshift camp. "Okay, jerkbender, you're going down," Sokka announces as they emerge from the green underbrush.

Zuko's barren camp features a well-stacked, healthily burning fire, and six feet away Zuko's lying under cover made of a burnt orange-red canopy suspended by ties to several trees. The oiled tarpaulin shelter is decorated with patches of moss for camouflage in the forest terrain. Zuko's head is pillowed on his folded arm. Mere seconds after Toph and Sokka step into the clearing, Zuko rolls over and pushes himself up, taking them in, a surprised, encouraged expression coming over his face. Despite the temperate air, Zuko's got a burgundy cloak pulled over himself like a blanket, and something long and thin like a bow slides out of his arms to the ground as he sits up. Sokka draws his sword as they approach, and Katara has water out and ready to attack.

"Hello," Zuko says brightly, somehow sounding both eager and stilted. "I was hoping you'd come."

Katara glowers at him. "Don't 'hello' us."

Zuko doesn't seem to take her sharp tone to heart. "There are more of you," Zuko says, looking around at the seven of them.

"Oh, you know. Everyone wanted to come, it was shaping up to be a slow morning," Sokka says.

The Duke makes his way to the front of the group and takes a long, unimpressed look at Zuko. " _He's_ the prince of the Fire Nation?"

"Yeah... hello," Zuko says awkwardly to The Duke, as though he isn't sure what to make of this derisive observation.

Zuko returns his attention to Aang, Katara and Sokka. "Have you reconsidered?" Zuko asks hopefully, and his persistent, optimistic elation to see them says he's not getting the purpose of their little visit. "Since I helped you with the assassin?"

"The assassin you hired, you mean," Katara accuses. "We're not convinced you didn't stage that little scene at the temple."

Zuko's lips part in shock, and for a few seconds he's speechless.

"He _died_ ," Zuko says finally. "His head exploded! You think I would let someone die to convince you I've changed?!"

"Yes, we do," Katara says. "Of course we do."

"You're giving me way too much credit if you think that was staged," Zuko says unhappily.

"You acted way too brave facing him," Katara counters.

"Too brave," Zuko echoes, and he stares either into space or at a clump of bushes twenty feet away. "I really can't do anything right," he says, quietly enough to be speaking to himself.

"Darting in between him and a fatal fall? You should have dialed the performance back a bit," Katara continues. "Your yelling was a little too loud, too."

"That was my normal yelling," Zuko says, defending himself though his bewilderment and chagrin are still obvious, and Sokka has heard Zuko shouting his head off often enough that he can't help but snort a laugh. "Actually, I'm not even sure I _was_ yelling. It's an aerie," Zuko says, frowning like logic is difficult for him. "The sound probably reverberated a lot off the rock."

Toph cuts in. "So just to be clear, you're saying you didn't stage that?"

"No!" Zuko protests. "No. Of course not." Whatever Zuko's many, many flaws, Zuko looks so flabbergasted, and then so crestfallen, Sokka privately doubts Zuko's confrontation with Combustion Man was a set-up.

"So long story short, we've reconsidered accepting you as a prisoner," Sokka tells him breezily.

"Oh," Zuko says, casting his eyes down.

"Yeah, cause even before your assassin friend's acute brainsplosion, courtesy of Sokka, thank you Sokka, amazing throw-- you showed you're clearly too dangerous to leave alone out here," Sokka says. He's seen Zuko thwarted, frustrated, knocked flat, chained up, trapped in ice, and beaten within what looked like an inch of his life, but he's never seen the guy look so dejected.

"Right," Zuko says, as though he's been half-called, half-dragged back to the present moment. "I'm sorry for what I did to you," he says to Toph, like he's willing her to understand. "I didn't mean to. It was an accident."

"Yeah, yeah," Toph says. "I know."

"Don't make this hard on yourself," Sokka warns Zuko. "You're seriously outnumbered."

"I see that," Zuko says, looking for all the world like a kicked polar-bear-dog puppy.

Sokka swings the blade of his sword in a tiny directive circle. "So are we going to do this the hard way, or --"

"No," Zuko says, scrambling up, and from the set of startled reactions he gets in response-- Sokka raising his sword into a defensive position, Katara's floating pool of water starting to move, Aang adopting an airbending stance-- Zuko immediately seems to realize that if he intended to indicate a swift surrender, he's blown it again. Quickly he puts out his hands, then hits his knees in the dirt. "I volunteered to be your prisoner. I haven't changed my mind," Zuko says hastily, as though he's expecting them to hurt him, and like he's not planning to defend himself if they do. Sokka's not sure how to feel about this reaction. Yes, Katara told Zuko that they better not see him again, but they've sought him out here, so...

Zuko assumes the posture he had at the temple two days prior, his shoulders falling into a slump, putting his wrists up and out in a show of submission. Zuko stops talking, like he knows anything he says now is beside the point.

Sokka sheathes his space sword and pulls out a precious stolen coil of Fire Nation rope, approaching Zuko without much wariness. Zuko appears really and truly defeated and demoralized in a way Sokka couldn't have imagined was possible. Did he think Zuko looked dejected a minute ago? Even in Sokka's most vicious, murderous fantasies of kicking the shit out of the guy, of pounding his obnoxious face until it's an unrecognizable bloody pulp, impaling him on a blue-banded Water Tribe spear, or simply slitting his throat with a keenly honed whale-tooth dagger, Zuko has only ever looked furious. Sokka's seen him surprised once or twice in real life, but Sokka never could have imagined what such bleakness would look like written across Zuko's burned face.

Sokka presses Zuko's wrists together and starts to wind rope around them. Zuko's nails are ragged and bitten to the quick, Sokka notices, and Zuko's skin feels feverishly hot under his fingers.

"Oh, Sokka, tie him in the back, not the front," Katara instructs. "We want him as incapacitated as possible. And tie him tightly."

Sokka glances at her, then steps behind Zuko and pulls each hot, dry hand down behind Zuko's back. Sokka begins to bind Zuko's wrists snugly, but not too tightly. Even jerks from the Fire Nation need some circulation.

Teo seems to be thinking along the same lines. "Let's not go overboard," Teo says to Katara, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know, he tied me pretty tightly to that tree," Katara says sarcastically.

Teo gives Zuko a surprised, disapproving look. "You tied Katara to a _tree_?"

"Yeah, I did," Zuko sighs. "I'm sorry, Katara."

"And held me there for hours, surrounded by a squad of his soldiers and a bunch of pirates," Katara says, ignoring the apology, skating two fingers possessively against the pendant at her throat like she's confirming for herself that it's still dangling there. "Taunting me with my mother's necklace, saying he didn't want to hurt me, trying to convince me to betray Aang for the sake of his precious _honor_. He tried to use Sokka as leverage too."

Teo studies Zuko as though trying to reconcile these actions with the subdued, scarred, remorseful teenager currently allowing Sokka to restrain him.

"It's the Fire Lord's son, we can't possibly go overboard," The Duke points out, like that's just common sense.

"Smother the fire, someone, I don't want to waste any of my water," Katara requests.

"I got it," Haru says, and he concentrates and earthbends dirt onto the flames, neatly extinguishing them.

Sokka finishes tying Zuko's wrists and pulls him to his feet. "Congratulations, you're Team Avatar's first prisoner." Zuko looks at Sokka so unhappily Sokka actually feels slightly sorry for him, which is _weird_. "Alright, let's go."

Zuko glances back at the camp he's abandoning, or that they're politely kidnapping him from. "Can you please... I don't want to leave my stuff behind. Do you mind bringing my bag? Please?"

Sokka half-turns and spots the brown leather knapsack tucked away under a hanging fold of the canopy shelter.

"Yes we'd mind," Katara says. "We're not carrying your trash."

Zuko hangs his head but accepts her verdict.

"What'd you bring?" Aang asks, looking curiously in Sokka's direction as Sokka snags the knapsack and flips the opening cover up. The texture is soft, a smooth and supple leather. Hippo cow, unless Sokka misses his guess. He learned a lot just from belt shopping in a Fire Nation leatherworks shop.

The Duke brightens. "Blasting jelly?" The Duke asks hopefully. "Just going by what you've said about him being a really bad guy."

"Don't see any blasting jelly yet," Sokka says, already poking inside Zuko's knapsack. The tote is chock full of _stuff_ , but what stands out most is a fat brown bag with a sewn-on ribbon, tied to a leather thong along the top of the inner lining of the knapsack to keep it from falling down to the bottom, and it looks for all the world like a coin purse.

"Not that much," Zuko says to Aang, keeping his eyes mostly on the ground. Katara's glaring at him like she wants to drown him right here, right now, and he looks like it's making him very uncomfortable. "A cloak, and my dao, and food and water, and--"

"Spirits and ancestors, a lot of money," Sokka says, holding up and shaking the nondescript brown cloth purse. The bag is so full it hardly jingles when Sokka shakes the contents around. He peeks inside and sees a lot of gold and silver emblazoned with the Fire Nation insignia, and a smaller number of Earth Kingdom coins mixed in as well with their distinctive square center cutouts. "You brought... so much money."

"I've gone hungry before," Zuko says. "I didn't want to again. You can take the money."

Sokka reties the ribbon and hefts the bag up, passing it with clinking noises from one hand to the other and back. "Well yeah, obviously we're not leaving it. Feel how heavy this is," Sokka says as he grabs Toph's hand and presses the bag into her palm, unabashedly delighted.

Toph weighs the bag in her hand, unimpressed by wealth. "Eh."

The Duke says, with zero enthusiasm, "We won't have to steal from the locals to survive now."

Sokka looks skeptically at The Duke. "Why do you sound so disappointed?"

"Because I like stealing."

"Then steal, it's not like I'm going to quit street gambling just because Zuko's carrying some money," Toph says.

"You should have led with 'I brought a ton of gold you guys can have,'" Sokka says to Zuko, rummaging through the knapsack.

"It's not _that_ much," Zuko says, disconcerted.

"You obviously have to learn to live on a budget," Sokka says. But for The Duke to sneak off and steal, for Toph to gleefully swindle cheaters, or for the lot of them to go on a spending spree with Zuko's money, they're going to have to travel a long way back to civilization first. "Okay, I see a bunch of little boxes and stuff wrapped in paper, which is probably the food." Sokka pulls out a rough linen bag, half-full of satisfyingly lumpy-feeling somethings. "Tell us exactly what food you brought, it'll save us the trouble of going through all this stuff." Unrolling the top of the bag, he finds a bunch of glazed buns and immediately takes a bite of one.

"Sokka!" Katara bursts out, like she's alarmed. "Don't eat anything, it's probably all poisoned."

Sokka chews thoughtfully, identifying the flavors in his mouth. "Ash banana sweet bun, 's delicious," Sokka says, passing the linen bag to Aang, then taking another bite of the bun and passing that to Aang too. "You'll like these Aang, they're vegetarian," Sokka says with his mouth full, and then the aftertaste kicks off and makes him narrow one eye suspiciously. "Although... even their sweet food is a little bit spicy."

"Don't even think about eating that, Aang," Katara warns.

Aang stands with the bag in one hand and the partially eaten bun in the other, looking unsure.

"It's not poisoned," Zuko objects. "I mean, I'll eat some, or any of it. It's just food."

"Then it's probably laced with some Fire Nation poison that only affects outsiders."

"Now you're being ridiculous," Zuko tells Katara crossly.

"Really? Cause bringing poisoned food sounds like it would be just like you," Katara accuses more loudly.

Zuko's voice rises and sharpens. "I'm not a witch out of a spooky story and I need to eat, why would I bring poisoned food?"

"To kill Aang, obviously!" Katara retorts, matching Zuko in escalating tone and volume, and at this rate, in thirty seconds they're going to be screaming deafeningly at one another. "Since you failed to do it any other way."

Sokka glances between them as they glare at each other, because somehow it didn't occur to him until just now that prisoner-Zuko and Katara are going to snipe back and forth probably endlessly. Until they gag Zuko, at least, which Katara made clear in advance that she absolutely requires if Zuko's going to be kept around. Her establishing this stipulation during their discussion about taking Zuko as their prisoner makes complete sense now. The two of them do tend to trash talk each other during their epic water-versus-fire bender fights, now that Sokka thinks about it.

Aang is looking at the pair of them like he's dismayed, too.

"It smells great, I'll risk it," Haru says with a slight smile, and Aang passes him the gnawed-on ash banana bun. Sokka's about to ask suspiciously how Haru can smell a long-since-cooled sweet bun from three feet away, the aroma's not exactly wafting around, and then he realizes Haru's trying to bring tranquility to the Western Air Temple forest, just like Sokka.

"If Haru and I drop dead," Sokka tells Katara, "you can say 'I told you so' and save on feeding Zuko by letting him eat his own vittles. Now if you two are done bickering like an old married couple..." Sokka returns to rifling through the bag and listing his discoveries, ignoring Aang scowling at him for his last remark. "Change of clothes, picture of his uncle, picture of his girlfriend--"

"Are you blind? That's my mother!" Zuko snaps.

"Two minutes in and already struggling with your temper," Katara says, cool and a little taunting. Katara's a pro at goading people, probably because she's been practicing getting under Sokka's skin for years. "Clearly you've really changed a lot."

"Okay, yeah, I guess she would be a little old for you," Sokka says after flipping back to the picture of the woman, a small oil painting. Zuko rolls his eyes. Sokka recognized the uncle but not the woman in the second portrait, and he was just casually being an asshole to the guy who's chased them around the world menacing them for the better part of a year, as he's pretty sure that of everything in the world Zuko might have or not have, one thing he doesn't have is a girlfriend. But it follows that the woman in the painting would be Zuko's mom. Sokka pulls the painting out and holds it up for a real examination, and Aang and Haru both crowd closer too. Aang studies the portrait, while Haru looks back and forth between the painting and Zuko.

"You can really see the family resemblance," Toph says from the side.

"You think so?" Sokka says, glancing between the painting and Zuko, before he realizes Toph's gotten him again. "Toph!"

"Good one, Toph," Teo says with a laugh.

Sokka slides the picture back and looks at the other one, a detailed, lifelike black and manilla sketch of Zuko's uncle mounted on a red background. Sokka resumes shuffling through the knapsack. Going through someone else's stuff is really underrated fun. "We also have... what looks like a Fire Nation swimming costume, very fashionable, knee-length must be in this year. Three different canteens. Two look regulation military metal, one's gold in a black leather case and has the Fire Nation symbol embossed on the leather in gold leaf or something," Sokka elaborates. "We have a comb, so important for the modern Fire Nation prince with hair, looks like polished carved bone--"

"It's dragon bone, it's an heirloom," Zuko says distantly.

"Huh, okay. It's pretty girly, kind of scalloped, set with garnets or something, but whatever. Couple of candles, little bottle that's gotta be either angry juice or oil for washing, I know you Fire Nation weirdos don't use a bar of soap like normal people--"

"That's not why," The Duke says. "They carry those bottles of oil so they have explosive devices in a pinch."

"Never heard that before," Sokka says. He looks at Zuko. "Is that true?"

"They're for washing," Zuko answers, still emotionless. "Though there are a couple of tall tales about them being used as improvisational explosives. 'Bottle bombs.'"

"Ha! Told you," The Duke says triumphantly.

"It's military folklore," Zuko objects softly, contesting this claim in a way that's kind of discreet, like he wants to avoid arguing with more of them than he has to.

"And... a dagger," Sokka says. "What is this, black pearl?" Sokka pulls the short blade out and unsheathes it with a flourish, catching the light with the dappled gleam of the pearl hilt, then reading the inscription aloud. "'Never give up without a fight.'" Sokka glances at Zuko. "Not the philosophy for you personally, huh?"

"Just because I'm not fighting you doesn't mean I'm done fighting," Zuko says with a surprising amount of steel in his voice. Behind his back, Zuko bends his arms the six inches he can flex them as though testing his bonds. "I don't see this as giving up."

"What could be more giving up than giving yourself up?" Haru asks, sort of rhetorically, or at least Sokka hopes it was.

"Seeing everything through, and losing yourself," Zuko says quietly, and he lowers his eyes.

Katara sneers, but Zuko doesn't seem aware of her scorn. "Maybe be a little more careful what cause you attach yourself to."

Zuko looks up at her. "I was born into it," Zuko says, calmer and less irate than the last thing he said to Katara.

"LIke that's an excuse," Katara says, her tone biting.

The dagger has another inscription on the other side: _Made in Earth Kingdom_. "The dagger's gotta be worth something," Sokka says to forestall the next argument, and then out of the corner of his eye he spots the scabbard on the ground, nearly concealed under Zuko's discarded cloak. An inch of a leather strap is showing too, a harness to wear across the body precisely like his own, and Sokka realizes this is what Zuko had loosely wrapped in his arms when he was lying down. Sokka can sort through the rest of Zuko's things later. All Sokka's manual meddling in the carefully packed knapsack has jostled the contents, leaving the bag overfull and looking near to spilling things out. Sokka sticks the Earth Kingdom dagger in his belt, passes the knapsack to Aang and picks up the scabbard.

"Really cool sword," Sokka says, drawing the sword, discovering it's actually two swords and accidentally dropping one. "... --sss." The fallen blade narrowly misses his boot, lodging upright and quivering in the dirt.

Teo uses his grabby device to pick up the burgundy cloak off the ground, as deft with the pick-up tool as though it's an extension of his arm, which makes Sokka think of Piandao. Though knee-length on Zuko, the cloak will probably fall well past shins on most of them. It'll be good for a disguise should they need those again.

Sokka frowns as he picks up the still-wobbling broadsword, thinking back. "I don't think I've ever seen you use these, Zuko." Sokka slices the blades through the air. They're lighter than his awesome space sword, and naturally way less cool. The dagger is a lot fancier in its construction, but the broadswords are sturdy and well-forged with an understated quality despite their plain hilts, and the steel is notched and scratched and scored like they've seen real action.

Embarrassingly, Sokka fails to sheathe the paired blades on his first try and has to flip and reseat them, examining the funny semi-circular hilts that let them fit so snugly together in the single scabbard.

"I have," Aang says forbiddingly, and he turns to Zuko with accusation in his eyes. "You held them to my throat."

Sokka looks between them blankly. "Wait, what?"

"When I was captured," Aang says. "Zhao. The frogs," Aang adds by way of explanation, and Aang's big gray eyes flick back to Zuko uneasily. "He's really good with them."

"I had no choice to get Zhao to back off," Zuko huffs. "I got us out, didn't I?"

"Yeah," Aang says, and he lowers his eyes. "That's why I didn't let him catch you."

"You've gotta stop being all secretive about adventures you have without us," Sokka says. Sokka tries to feel the two swords as extensions of his arms, but instead he pictures the two swords as extensions of Zuko's arms. It's a haunting mental image. Sokka's never sparred or fought for real with anyone who wielded dual swords, and he tries to think whether he's ever seen a firebender use or carry a weapon at all, Zuko included. How does bending even work when the benders' hands are full?

"We should take the canvas too," Teo suggests. "If it's made out of what I think it's made out of, it's really water resistant." Haru and The Duke look at each other, shrug, and start scaling the trees to pull it down. Zuko silently watches them dismantling his camp and going through his possessions.

"Take this back," Toph says, and she whacks Sokka in the chest with the bag of coins, making him yelp.

The hit feels like it staves Sokka's chest in, and Sokka holds both money and swords in one hand and clutches his chest with the other. "Toph, that is gonna bruise."

Toph scoffs. "Toughen up, Snoozles."

"Give this to Katara," Sokka says, passing the bag to Aang, because Katara generally handles their commingled funds. Aang immediately takes aim at Katara and tosses the bag to her in an underhand throw. A gentle throw, softened by the support of a swirly little zephyr, but still. Katara catches the coin-filled broadcloth missile, though the follow-through is heavy enough to send her cupped hands flying back to thunk against her chest. Sokka sighs inwardly, because the bag is heavy like a brick and Aang is as hopeless as Toph, even if Toph is brutal and Aang merely thoughtless.

"Zuko's coming without a fight, I say we bring his stuff," Aang rules, and he shoulders the knapsack.

"Thank you," Zuko says gratefully to Aang.

"Leave the swords here, at least," Katara says. "Zuko shouldn't have access to weapons."

"He is a weapon," Toph mutters.

"But they're so cool," Sokka protests, not putting the broadswords down, and in fact maybe protectively petting the scabbard a little. "We can always sell them."

Sokka catches the despondent look that passes over Zuko's face, and he slaps Zuko on the back as he walks by. "Cheer up, Zuko, you asked to be our prisoner if we didn't want you in the group. At least you're getting your second choice?"

*

"Home sweet inverted pagoda," Sokka says as they reach the Western Air Temple and walk to where they left Appa out near the cliffs. Sokka picks Teo up out of his chair so Aang can airbend Teo's chair up onto Appa. Then Aang hops back down to do the same with Teo, and a third time to transport Zuko since his hands are tied behind his back. Zuko's clearly discomfited to be slung over Aang's narrow shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but he refrains from complaining. The rest of them climb up and at Aang's command, Appa begins to descend from the cliff.

Sokka turns to their prisoner, who appears equal parts nervous and amazed as he looks around in the air, which is a totally standard reaction to riding on a flying bison for the first time. "Actually, Zuko, you might be interested to know I call this place Second Choice Pagoda, because we had to move our camp here after Combustion Man zapped up and destabilized the nicest spot. Blew the fountain right apart. So we're all getting our second choices right now."

"Very comforting," Zuko says. Does Sokka detect sarcasm? He thinks he does!

"Second Choice Pagoda is basically identical to -- you know what, nevermind," Haru says.

"I like this one much better, actually," Toph says with a positive inflection. "The fountain's the same, the balustrades aren't as broken, and it has the wraparound garden going for it."

"The mattresses, though," Haru says, and Katara nods agreement.

"Maybe we could bring over some of the other mattresses on Appa," Aang suggests. "You'd be willing buddy, wouldn't you?"

Appa groans.

After clambering and airbending off Appa, they walk and roll through the courtyard terrace to the fountain. "Sit there," Katara says to Zuko, pointing at a low pillar on the terrace ten feet away from the fountain's bench-like edge and the fire pit they built thirty feet away from that. Zuko obediently walks forward, sits, and regards them.

"And open your mouth," Sokka instructs, and Zuko looks up at him wide-eyed. Sokka grabs the coil of rope he forgot and walks behind Zuko. This rope is narrower and finer and softer, more like thick cord.

"You're going to gag me?" Zuko says, a plea in his voice.

"Yeah, Katara feels like you have a pretty poison tongue there," Sokka says.

"We don't want you to talk," Katara says curtly.

"Sorry, Zuko," Aang says, sounding apologetic. "But we've seen you breathe fire from your mouth and snort it out your nose, so--"

"Are you going to pinch my nostrils shut too?" Zuko asks, frustrated and hostile for a second, but then he visibly represses his ire and takes a deep breath, even as cloudy gray smoke thinly streams in twin lines out of his nose when he releases the breath.

"You're still so angry, aren't you," Katara says condescendingly. Aang looks nonplussed.

"I don't even know him, and this already feels like trying to keep a lion vulture as a pet," Haru says.

"Mmm." Sokka strokes his chin with his free hand, not yet forcing the gag issue. "What should we name him?"

Sokka asks the question quietly and seriously, enough unlike his normal manner that no one ventures an answer, and they all just stand around giving Zuko a second to either chill out or decide to fight them after all. Sokka glances around at his friends, and every eye is glued to Zuko. They all watch as Zuko composes himself, which from shouty Prince Rage Machine is a hell of a thing to watch. A surprisingly fast process, too. Zuko's next exhalation is clear air again, and his incensed glare smooths into a mask of neutrality.

"It's been a rough few years," Zuko says with perfect calm, and then he closes his eyes and parts his lips. He holds very still as Sokka begins winding the cord half a dozen times around his head, forcing his slightly open mouth to open wider. Sokka, for his part, takes care to keep from catching and pulling Zuko's messy hair in the coils as he ties a knot in back, keeping his fingers between Zuko's hair and the cord.

"Are we really just leaving an ashmaker tied up with rope?" The Duke asks.

"Yeah?" Aang says uncertainly.

"The Duke's right. Zuko can definitely burn the rope off his wrists," Katara points out.

"Without burning himself?" Teo asks.

Sometimes Sokka has to remind himself that Teo hasn't seen much of the war at the haven of the Northern Air Temple, nor had many firebenders up close and personal. "Yeah. The strong ones have pretty good control over heat and flame, including where it hits, how to shield themselves against it, all that stuff."

"In the Earth Kingdom, we'd crush his hands to ensure no more firebending, ever," Haru says. "Tying him up is pretty merciful... and dangerous, if he's dangerous."

"It would send a real message if we crushed his hands and sent him back to the Fire Lord," The Duke suggests.

Zuko listens to these threats with his head held high and fixed, stoic in his capitulation, but Sokka has his fingers on Zuko's neck and feels the near-invisible, reflexive jerk of fear or revulsion that passes like a barely perceptible spasm through his body, from his head down along his neck and spine. Sokka finishes knotting the cord. A side effect of being even remotely gentle is that the gag turns out tied slightly slack, but Sokka would rather tie a gag loosely than too tightly. Yeah, it's Zuko, and it's definitely satisfying to have him tied up and at their mercy, but now that the guy is here and so obviously miserable, Sokka can't help but feel traces of what might be real and abundant sympathy if it were just about anyone else. Sokka tests the viability of his knot with a tugging finger in between the cords and Zuko's cheek, and Zuko's golden eyes meet his in a way that makes his stomach feel weird. Sokka chalks it up to how freaky and yellow the guy's eyes are.

"The Duke!" Teo exclaims.

"Well, we're not doing that," Toph says with finality.

Aang's mouth is hanging open. "No, we're not," Aang says forcefully. "That's-- no!"

Katara's expression says she's wondering exactly what message that would send, but she wouldn't rule it out.

Haru shrugs noncommittally. "I'm not suggesting we should," Haru says of the implacable Earth Kingdom practices he was raised around. "Just that, with a recalcitrant firebender, that's how it's handled where I'm from."

"Is that the kind of thing Jet led you to do?" Aang asks The Duke, clearly upset. Zuko startles at the sound of Jet's name, staring at Aang.

"Pipsqueak and I parted ways with Jet because he went too far, but smokestinkers need to be dealt with, Jet wasn't wrong about that," The Duke says with the cynical grit of someone much older and more world-weary. "Permanently is the best way."

Sokka exchanges a glance with Aang, who looks even more openly distressed. Aang's a silver-lining, think-the-best-of-people, rose-colored-spectacles kind of guy, but has he completely forgotten what Jet was like? At some point they're going to need to sit The Duke down and try to counteract some of the intense Fire Nation hate he picked up as one of Jet's freedom fighters. 'Kill all firebenders' isn't really a great response to the genocide of the Air Nomads or the war, even if The Duke has a few more scruples about innocent Earth Kingdom bystanders than Jet.

Teo rubs his chin, thinking. "So what are you saying, Katara? We need chains? Or more rope, to go all around his midsection and his ankles?"

"He can probably melt chains too," Katara says darkly. "Or at least turn them red-hot. Maybe we should consider... other options."

"No!" Aang shouts, rounding on her. Katara looks at him in stunned surprise. "I don't even want to kill the Fire Lord and he's a terrible person! We're not killing _Zuko_ while he's over there looking all depressed and willingly offered himself as a prisoner! We're not having this conversation!"

Zuko's apparently as shocked by this turn of the discussion as the rest of them, going by the way his gaze lifts and the alarmed look in his uneven eyes as his eyes flash from Katara to Aang and back.

"Aang, calm down!" Katara exclaims. "I'm not saying we should kill him, I'm just saying... we can't leave him alone for a second, or safely stash him anywhere in the Temple. If we're keeping him as a prisoner, we need to have eyes on him at all times. Like, we'll have to keep him _around_. He'll hear everything we say, so even if he's our prisoner, we're kind of going to have him in the group. I'm just saying, it's not ideal."

Aang storms off anyway, grabbing his glider and leaping off the side of the temple, leaving Katara, Sokka, and Haru looking after him, and Toph standing around. Teo pointedly avoids looking out into the ravine, like he thinks calling attention to Aang's outburst would be rude. The Duke has his short arms crossed and is staring at Zuko as if he's a problem to be solved. Zuko has bowed his head and is avoiding everyone's eyes.

"Is it just me, or is Twinkletoes having more meltdowns lately?" Toph asks no one in particular.

Sokka claps a hand on Zuko's shoulder, because Zuko looks like he could use the reassurance. Sokka wouldn't have said he'd be inclined to offer solace to Prince Stupidhair, but it's impossible not to feel sorry for him when he appears so beaten down and Sokka knows, even if no one else does, that he's afraid of what they might do to him.

If their positions were reversed, Sokka's one hundred percent sure Zuko wouldn't say or do anything comforting for him, but that's just one of the innumerable things that make Sokka the far superior man. 

"Bet you wouldn't have thrown yourself on your knees so fast if you knew we'd immediately discuss mangling your limbs and offing you, huh?" Sokka asks Zuko, keeping his tone and manner easygoing. "You'll be okay." Ten out of ten, he's awesome. But Zuko's shoulder stays rigid under Sokka's hand, and Zuko keeps his eyes down.

"I said that badly," Katara says unhappily, looking after Aang, though after that she casts an annoyed look at Zuko. "I meant leaving him somewhere. In the North Pole they had an underground ice prison. He'd definitely burn through the ice and try to dig his way out, but it would take weeks, and he'd be far away from us if he did escape, too far to reach us again before the comet."

Zuko's dark brown overtunic feels hot to the touch, like it's been baking under a scorching afternoon sun, but the sun overhead is still of the light morning variety. Plus none of the fabric of Zuko's clothing appears damp. He's hot without sweating. Sokka's noticed in the course of fighting Zuko that he measures in well above regular body temperature, to the point where heat comes off him in waves, but Sokka's never had the leisure to contemplate, at length and up close, just how odd firebenders are. Sokka gives Zuko's shoulder a final pat and lets him go.

"Aang's really stressing about this whole kill-the-Fire-Lord thing," Sokka tells her cheerfully. "Don't let it get to you."

"This is why I didn't want Zuko as a prisoner," Katara says, like Aang getting bent out of shape is Zuko's fault.

"Aang needs to suck it up," The Duke states. "Everyone in this war has had to do things they'd rather not do. Now who's taking the first shift watching the worldburner?"

Zuko, who's been so carefully papering over his reactions to keep an impassive exterior, discernibly winces when The Duke calls him _worldburner_. Sokka wonders why. Maybe he somehow hasn't heard that one before.

Katara and Sokka exchange glances. "Aang, Sokka, Toph and I will take turns," Katara says. "Zuko's our burden to bear."

Teo offers no objections.

"I don't have any particular desire to be around him, but I'm happy to help out," Haru says. Haru's a strong earthbender, but he'd have no idea what he'd be getting into if he were to fight Zuko.

"I want to help," The Duke announces. "I'm experienced at dealing with Fire spies, pikemen, and benders."

Sokka elbows him. "Yeah, experienced at beating the snot out of them, robbing and executing them." Out of the corner of his eye, Sokka sees Zuko taking a second look at The Duke.

"The freedom fighters didn't take prisoners, that's true," The Duke says, blunt and proud. "But I can do a shift of guard duty."

"Let's see how Prince Angryjerk does for a couple of days," Sokka hedges. The truth is, he doesn't trust a kid so heavily influenced by Jet not to accidentally-on-purpose kill the prince of the Fire Nation, bound and at their mercy or not. With the way he's acting, Sokka's not even sure Zuko would defend himself. Especially given Toph's claim about Zuko meaning everything he's said since he showed up at the Western Air Temple. Sokka's had that thought percolating in his brain for two days and two nights now.

"I want to help," The Duke insists.

"Okay, how about this-- you can share my shift," Sokka says, just to circumvent the impending argument. Peacekeeping is a tough job, but somebody has to do it. "It'll be good to have the backup since we're both non-benders."

The Duke nods, satisfied.

"We should probably wait until Twinkletoes comes back to hash out a schedule," Toph says. "Unless you're raring to go with that organizational chart, Snoozles?"

"Actually, The Duke and I will take the first shift, because while yes of course I want to make a guard duty plan, there's something more important I want to do first," Sokka says.

Katara looks at him blankly. "Really?"

"Oh yeah," Sokka says. "The guard schedule can wait." The others look at him curiously. They should have held off a little longer on gagging Zuko, because Sokka wants the lowdown on whatever tasty cuisine Zuko brought, and thus what they now have, and it wouldn't be fair for Sokka to start taking bites of everything to figure each dish out, no matter how tempting an idea that might be. Sokka goes over to him, unknotting and unwinding the gag, and when Zuko's mouth is uncovered, Sokka pulls him a couple inches backward by his tense shoulder. "We're having a 'taking stock of your food' party!"

Zuko licks his dry lips and looks up at Sokka. "Can I go to the bathroom?" he says questioningly, like he's not sure whether he'll be allowed privy trips.

Sokka hesitates, because they didn't discuss in advance how Zuko's bodily needs were going to be handled. Sokka's only willing to assist with Operation Pee Break in one capacity, though, so that settles the question pretty quickly. "Yeah," he says. "Turn around."

Zuko obediently rotates on the pillar, and Sokka starts untying his wrists. "I'll come with you," The Duke volunteers.

"That's okay, I got him," Sokka says.

"Why are you untying him here? You should wait until the last second," Katara says critically, like she's perturbed by what she sees as carelessness. "If at all."

"Guys, come on, I got this," Sokka says, and then he raises his eyebrows meaningfully. "Also, Katara, think about what you're saying."

Katara's cheeks take on a pink tint at the implications of what manner of aid Zuko might need if they refused to untie him at all, and she makes a face. Zuko's eyes fasten on the stone ground and stay there, and the restive flush that creeps over his good cheek is slower to bloom but far deeper in color.

Zuko hasn't been tied up that long or that tightly, but after Sokka nudges him away from Katara, Zuko begins rubbing circles over his wrists to stimulate circulation. "This way," Sokka tells him, and he starts Zuko towards the latrine in the garden. "Walk ahead of me. I'll tell you when to stop."

Zuko starts walking, not all that fast, and Sokka follows him. "Sooo, do you still want to be our prisoner, or are you ruing the day you turned good?" Sokka asks.

Zuko uses his right hand to press his left upper arm tight across his chest, stretching. "I still want to be here."

"You're not going to try to run?" Sokka glances back in the direction of the fountain. Maybe he should have brought Toph or Katara for backup, now that he thinks about it. If Zuko decided to try something, Sokka might not be the best-suited person to take him out. Sokka's still wearing his space sword though, so there's that, and if Zuko runs, Boomerang can handily bring him down. The real danger is Zuko firebending at him, and so Sokka keeps a five foot distance between them, staying wary.

Zuko's mind is pretty clearly not on firebending or escape, though. Zuko finishes stretching his other arm the same way and drops both to his sides before he rolls his shoulders back and down. "No," Zuko says heavily. "I don't have anywhere else to go."

"Well, that's certainly not the most depressing thing I've ever heard," Sokka says, mentally moving 'orphaned starving polar bear dog puppies' down the list of all-time saddest situations to make room for Prince Anger-Management having no one and no place to go to besides his enemies who hate him. But maybe that's just what happens when you're an asshole who lives to kidnap (and/or kill, Zuko seems to have grown flexible on this small detail) the world's last hope for peace.

"Stop and turn right," Sokka says, and Zuko halts in front of the three wild trees where Toph earthbent their latrine. "Straight through, watch your step," Sokka says, pointing. "I'll just... wait here." 

Zuko disappears between the wide and shady trees, and Sokka looks around the garden, which he hasn't yet scrutinized in proper daylight. The garden is overgrown and wild, colorful with summer flowers. In the course of their travels, Sokka's learned to identify a number of berries and the corresponding bushes on which they grow, but he has no names for the big bunches of tiny blue flowers, or the flowers that look like folded upturned red napkins, or the yellow flowers that look like hanging bells, or the florid pink blossoms that each sport a spot of fuchsia in the center, the colors and proportions of which remind Sokka of Zuko's scar. Probably because he has Zuko on the brain, yech. The garden wraps all the way around this level of the pagoda, and on the other side are some surviving tomato plants currently bearing fruit, which was why Sokka advised Toph to locate the latrine on this side.

Zuko emerges from the cluster of trees a minute later. Sokka gives him a nod and gets a slight nod in return, and Sokka gestures with a rolling hand like a fancy Earth Kingdom butler for Zuko to walk ahead of him again. On the way back, Zuko puts his forearms vertically behind his head and presses each elbow down in turn. They go back to the terrace, where Haru and The Duke are waiting for them. Katara, Teo and Toph have disappeared, probably to do the inventory of their supplies they were discussing the night before.

When they reach the fountain, Zuko sits back down on his pillar without being told and puts his hands behind his back for retying.

Sokka rebinds Zuko's wrists but leaves the gag off this time, and with a beckoning gesture Sokka directs Zuko to come down to the stone and sit in front of the pillar rather than atop it. "Alright," Sokka announces, and he, Haru, and The Duke take a full accounting of the Fire Nation food with Zuko's help. Zuko identifies for them a small bag of dried cherries, a bundle of golden bean curd puffs, a sack of fig biscuits, a bag of crushed and broken crumbs that were credibly once spicy vegetable chips, and a wrapped paper package of toasted fish jerky. The rice cakes, six links of sausage, and nibbled-on smoked sea slug need no explanation. The crowning jewel of the foodstuffs haul is a full and elegant fruit tart in a custom-sized if somewhat banged-up box, crowded with strawberries, mango, papaya, peaches and pomegranate, and looking fit to be served at the fanciest of ballroom parties. The tart's in excellent shape considering the dented state of the box and how many miles it's traveled in Zuko's knapsack. Sokka takes a closer look at the fruit toppings, which look remarkably well-preserved, and unless he misses his guess the fruit has all been coated with honey to keep it fresh and make it shiny. Zuko gazes at the tart with an oddly wistful look on his face, like it gives him some kind of feelings. Not hunger, Sokka would recognize hunger a mile away.

"You really raided the kitchen," Sokka says half-admiringly.

"I told you, I didn't want to go hungry," Zuko says, distracted away from whatever sentiment the sight of the fruit tart has stirred up in him. "It's a horrible feeling."

"Believe me, I know." Sokka strokes his chin. "So which food has the poison?"

Zuko's face contorts with anger. "For the last time, none of it is--"

Winding Zuko up is way too much fun. Pushing his buttons is hardly the violent revenge Sokka used to routinely daydream about, but it's good times. Sokka hits Zuko lightly in the shoulder with the back of his hand. "I'm just kidding, calm down. I'd eat anything here. And totally will."

Zuko's scowl eases, although he still looks grumpy. Which is fair, because the guy's tied up and surrounded by people who despise him, and Sokka's gonna eat his tasty Fire Nation food. Sokka separately piles up most of Zuko's actual personal effects, his clothes, the swords, the comb, et cetera. Sokka leaves the flasks out, because they can always use more flasks, especially after so recently adding three additional people to the group with no extra supplies. Zuko watches him work, following Sokka's movements like he expects all his things to be disposed of at the end.

Aang sails back onto the terrace as Sokka's finishing up Operation Zuko Snacks. Sokka says nothing about Aang's outburst and disappearing act, and nobody else does either. Aang takes a few steps and pauses by the fountain, looking at the spread of food and the small heap of Zuko's possessions.

Sokka pulls out something thin and elongated and malodorous swaddled in what turns out to be a crimson silk sash. At first, Sokka thinks it might be a particularly fetid cheese, but when he unrolls the length of fabric a well-worn, permanently sweat-darkened sandal comes tumbling into his lap, at which point the full reek assaults him. The sandal's a flip-flop, held to the foot by a leather thong that wedges between the toes; the flip-flop is one of an extensive list of items that Sokka's discovered are another culture's thing. Sokka picks it up with a finger and holds it away from himself. The sandal smells absolutely wretched, like death and unwashed ass, like stinky feet and rancid body odor and beyond, like Sokka's bedroll after he hasn't washed it for a couple months. The sheer strength of the odor is astonishing. At least with his bedroll you have to actually sniff it to get the full effect. Also, there's only one shoe, not a pair. Sokka stares at the offending flip-flop. "What the hell is this?"

Zuko glances at the shoe, and the way he realigns his sight makes Sokka realize that previous to that, Zuko's eyes were on his face. "It's Uncle's bathing sandal."

"Why are you carrying-- actually, you know what, I'm not even going to ask." Sokka expeditiously winds the sash back around the smelly sandal, because his eyes are nearly watering. "Definitely your business and not mine. I guess if that's your thing... who are we to judge." Sokka tucks the sash into itself and makes a show of looking skeptically at the rewrapped sandal parcel as he holds it up between finger and thumb, then lifts a knowing eyebrow before he side-eyes Zuko.

Zuko's mouth falls open, his brow pulling together and darkening as though black storm clouds have descended right onto his face, and he seethes as Sokka sets the package down amidst the collection of Zuko's things. "How dare you insinuate--" 

This time Sokka has no need to interrupt him mid-rant, because Zuko breaks off like he has no adequate words to unleash for what Sokka's implying.

"Calm _down_ , you've got to learn to take a joke, or you're gonna rupture something," Sokka advises.

"What just came out of your mouth was disgusting," Zuko says icily, his anger tempered now.

"Then it was perfect for that sandal," Sokka says. Provoking Zuko is like being handed slices of cream-frosted almond cake, like being snuggled by a devoted polar bear dog, like a gift that warms Sokka's heart and keeps on giving. Plus, it's hilarious. 

"You ruined your sash, that smell is never gonna come out. Actually, I'm amazed the stench didn't contaminate everything else in here." Sokka's almost to the bottom of the knapsack and reaches in for the last fabric-rolled package. The shape feels wrong to be the match of the mateless sandal. "This feels too hard to be edible. I really hope it's less gross." Sokka pulls it out and discovers something unforeseen: a slender Fire Nation crown loosely wrapped in an old cloth and tightly packed in a silken pillowcase for cushioning and protection. Sokka rolls the regalia in his hand, checking it out. It's a fancy freaking bauble. The adornment features a pair of tall gold wings above a red enameled bun-ring and a matching hair stick, and though Sokka can't think where he's seen it before, the regalia somehow looks vaguely familiar.

"That's Avatar Roku's headpiece," Aang says in shock, neatly solving that mystery. Aang drops his glider and sinks to one knee, taking the headpiece from Sokka and examining it up close, then looking at Zuko almost accusingly. "Where did you get this?"

"My uncle gave it to me a few days ago," Zuko says, quick and forthcoming. The last thing he probably wants is the Avatar madder at him than Aang is already. "It's an ornament traditionally worn by the crown prince of the Fire Nation. My great-grandfather gave it to Avatar Roku as a gift."

A strange, wondering look passes over Aang's face. "Yeah, I only learned recently they were friends."

"I just found out too," Zuko says. "I'm not sure how my uncle got ahold of it, after Avatar Roku died on his island."

"You know about that?" Aang asks.

"Yes," Zuko answers, and he and Aang regard each other briefly before Aang looks back down at Roku's headpiece. Zuko and Sokka both watch Aang toy with the precious ornament in his hands, tracing the red enameled hair stick against the sweeping outline of a golden wing, then slotting the stick through the holes in the bun ring and looking at the ensemble.

"I don't even know why I brought it," Zuko says. "I guess because my uncle wanted me to have it. I'm not attached to it or anything, and I'm definitely disinherited at this point."

"You don't seem especially bothered by that," Sokka comments, because Zuko reports being stricken from the Fire Nation's line of succession with an odd serenity.

"I'm pretty good at serving tea, so I have something to fall back on now."

Aang takes this in with a perplexed look and a cocked eyebrow that soon dissolve into an expression containing something like respect. Haru merely blinks. Sokka laughs at the idea of going from a life of luxury being Fire Lord, with a palace, wealth, power, daily massages, concubines, servants, and who knows what other perks, to a gig on his feet all day serving the public in a tea shop, and Zuko gives him a hard look. Zuko's expression is changing and loaded and layered, with anger rising to the top, maybe, but with a swell of something else below the surface. The angry jerk definitely has feelings, and Sokka appears to have just stepped on them. 

Either way, Sokka can tell for sure that Zuko was being deadly serious, not attempting to be funny at all, no matter how amusing it sounded. Zuko just made what must amount to a personal confession, for him, and Sokka laughed aloud. Ooops. Apparently Zuko takes the question of what he's going to do in life with utter solemnity. Being born royalty probably makes people take themselves way too seriously.

Sokka clears his throat loudly. "Quite a discrepancy in plans. At least you know what you want to do when you grow up?"

Zuko dismisses Sokka with a roll of his eyes that's decidedly haughty and imperious even if he has been kicked out of his crappy family, and he looks steadily at Aang. "Do you want it, Avatar?" Zuko asks of the headpiece. "It probably belongs more to you than me."

Aang grins, passing a hand over his smooth-shaven head. "Roku wore it his whole life, but I don't see myself having a lot of use for it. Thanks, though."

"We should put the prisoner to work," The Duke says, evidently stuck on the mental picture of Zuko serving tea.

"Doing what exactly?" Sokka asks, repressing his chuckle this time. Aang hands him the precious headpiece and Sokka rewraps it in the pillowcase, then sticks it back in the empty knapsack. Sokka returns the rest of Zuko's things to the knapsack as well, taking a last glance at Zuko's uncle, and taking care not to damage the corners of the two portraits. "We can store this with the supplies," Sokka says, and he might be imagining it, but he thinks Zuko looks relieved.

"You're right, he'd probably muck up any task we set him," says The Duke. "I'm not drinking tea he serves, that's for sure."

"I'll work, though," Zuko offers. 

"Yeah, you will if we tell you to work," The Duke says.

Zuko stares at The Duke for a moment, then refocuses on Aang and Sokka. "What needs to be done?"

"Not that much," Sokka says, looking around the terrace courtyard. "I'd totally make you do laundry or collect leaves or clean mattresses, but I doubt Katara wants you untied. And even if she was okay with that, no one's gonna let you near the cooking or even the washing-up afterwards."

"You could brush Appa," Aang suggests.

"Part of the deal was, he stays tied up," Haru says.

"Mostly what needs doing is--" Sokka's eyes stray to Aang. "Bending practice."

Aang huffs and looks away. "Yeah."

Zuko looks back and forth between them, his lips slightly parted like he's holding back from speaking what Haru doesn't know but the rest of them are thinking: he wants to teach Aang firebending. More than simple want-- Zuko looks like he's yearning to teach Aang firebending. As his mismatched eyes search them, the offer's clearly still more than on the table.

Sokka remembers Aang's unusually explosive reaction from the other night when they argued with Toph. _I'm not having_ Zuko _as my teacher!_

"I'm going to help Katara," Aang says abruptly, and he rises and takes off for the other side of the terrace.

*

Shortly before lunch, when Sokka's pretty much dying from the delicious smells of food that isn't ready for face-stuffing yet, Toph walks over to where The Duke, Sokka and Zuko are sitting and makes a request. "Untie his gag, would you? I want to talk to him."

"Sure," Sokka says, putting down his knife and the bone fishhook he's whittling. Sokka suddenly realizes he still has Zuko's Earth Kingdom dagger in his belt, having forgotten about it at some point in all the excitement. Sokka has no intention of hanging on to something of Zuko's, and he resolves to stick the weapon in Zuko's knapsack next chance he gets. "C'mere Zuko."

Zuko stands up with surprising grace considering his hands are restrained behind his back, and walks over, standing uncertainly until Sokka gestures for him to turn around. "Turn around and sit," Sokka says, and Zuko puts his back to Sokka as he crouches down, then sits, presenting his back and looking over his shoulder. Leaning forward, Sokka straightens Zuko's head, then unknots the gag and begins unwinding it. 

"Yech," Sokka says when he has most of the length of cord in his hand, because about a quarter of the cord's fibers are soaked through with rapidly cooling saliva. Zuko's saliva. Sokka drops the entire length to the stone in disgust. "Ughhh. Did not consider this aspect of gagging a prisoner." Sokka wipes his hands on the sides of his pants. "You sure-- salivate a lot," he says to Zuko.

"You didn't notice that earlier?" The Duke asks.

"Earlier Zuko had the gag in for about two seconds before Sokka took it out," Toph points out. "It probably wasn't enough time to soak it."

Zuko moistens his mouth after Sokka finishes taking the cord out, licking his chapped lips and swallowing several times. "Can I have some water, please?"

Toph punches Zuko in the upper arm, making him recoil. 

" _Ow_!"

"Toph, stop abusing the prisoner," Sokka says, getting up and dipping one of their wooden cups into the water fountain, then coming back and tilting the cup against Zuko's mouth. "If you want to kick his ass for burning your feet, untie him first, it's only sporting."

"Nah," Toph says, and Toph must be able to hear or sonar-watch Zuko gulping the water down, because she waits to continue.

"Why are you punching him, then?" Sokka angles the cup up slowly, trying not to overdo the pour and make the guy choke. There's something strangely intimate about enabling someone helpless to drink. Sokka decides he hates this guard stuff. It's uncomfortable.

They're going to have to hand-feed him too, Sokka would bet his space sword that cooler heads will not prevail. Sokka resolves not to end up personally responsible for that, because feeding Zuko would be too damn much to ask. The guy has nearly burned their faces off what feels like at least a hundred times. Sokka pauses with the cup for a few seconds, allowing Zuko to take a breath in between swallows.

"I feel sorry for him," Toph says.

Zuko looks at her sharply just as Sokka's tilting the cup back against his lips again, causing some water to trickle down onto his tunic. Zuko has his priorities clear, though, and he quickly clamps his mouth back on the rim of the cup.

"You can have a bath later, now's not really a good time," Sokka says of the spill, because although it wasn't his fault or anything, it feels like he should say something. Sokka lifts the bottom of the cup until the lines of it are almost parallel with the ground. When Zuko's finished swallowing, Sokka makes eye contact. "You good now?"

Zuko nods, a little breathless despite Sokka giving him a break in drinking. "Yeah. Thanks."

Sokka can decipher the meaning, even if Zuko can't yet fathom the mysterious workings of Toph's mind. By hitting him, Toph's treating Zuko as a member of the group.

But Sokka also gets where she's coming from. Being close to Zuko, and touching him and talking to him, all have started quickly to make him seem much more like a person. The sight of his shaved skull and stupid ponytail used to raise Sokka's hackles even at a distance; just the sight of him was enough to ratchet up anxiety and kick in an intense fight-or-flight reaction. Sokka rarely got close to him, and when he did he was too busy dodging fire swipes, komodo rhino horns and pirate swords to actually look at the Fire Nation idiot. Now Sokka can look his fill, and on some level it's hard not to like what he sees. Zuko looks softer with hair, apologetic and vulnerable in his subjugation, even if he's still a really hazardous person to have around, and he's polite when he's thanking Sokka for so much as a cup of water. No more attacking them, no more antagonizing them. Sokka finds it all too easy to believe Toph that Zuko's sincere in his reformed intentions, and the guy would be downright pretty if his face wasn't all burned. Even the scar seems kind of... normal on him, especially now that it's offset by a full head of tousled hair. 

"I don't want your pity," Zuko tells Toph.

"Too bad," Toph responds. "Okay, I need you to say something outlandish."

Zuko looks confused. "What?"

"Oh yeah, truth serum him, Toph," The Duke says.

Toph explains. "I have a good baseline on you, so I need you to say something out there."

Zuko blinks rapidly. He seems a little afraid, like he thinks he's being tested, perhaps with potential consequences. "Out there? I don't under--"

"Say some things about yourself that are obviously not true," Toph says patiently.

"You want me to lie to you?" Zuko's face turns blank as a wiped-down slate. Whatever he expected Toph wanted to discuss with him, it wasn't this. "What do you want me to say?"

Toph lets her head fall back in annoyance. "Anything false. You can't think of a single lie?"

"Not when you put me on the spot!" Zuko hunches his shoulders inward. "What do you want me to lie about?"

"Anything. Just think of some facts and tell me the opposite. Your sister told me she was a purple platypus bear and four hundred feet tall, and I couldn't read her. She was that cool."

Zuko squeezes his eyes shut like the thought of his sister gives him an instant headache. "Yes, Azula's an incredible liar," Zuko says bitterly. "She practices every day."

"Well, I've heard you say a lot of things I'm pretty sure are the truth. So I just want to know if you can lie like she can," Toph says.

Zuko opens his eyes, his face even. "I can't lie like my sister. And I haven't been lying to you."

"Then stop stalling and prove it already," Toph demands more forcefully, her surprising patience with Zuko apparently dwindling.

"I'm not stalling!" Zuko protests. "This is just-- okay." Zuko considers for another few moments. "Um-- so I'm from the Earth Kingdom and my name is Lee." Zuko pauses, checking their expressions like he's trying to determine whether he's doing well or not. Zuko continues more haltingly. "I'm enjoying being tied up. My father is-- is an airbender. I have a history of making good decisions."

Sokka laughs and Toph snorts. The Duke stays straight-faced. "You're funny, Zuko," Sokka says.

"Okay, that's enough. I have all I need." Toph punches Zuko in the bicep again as she gets up, and then she brings her fist thundering down into Sokka's shoulder like a hammer as she passes by him. Sokka grunts at the blow. Zuko hisses but doesn't cry out this time.

"Toph! I told you, no hitting the prisoner," Sokka says, rubbing his shoulder as she walks away, heading towards the lovely smells of whatever Katara's cooking for lunch. "Only violence against the free people."

"Does she always do that?" Zuko asks Sokka.

"No talking," The Duke tells Zuko sternly.

"Oh, let him talk, what else has he got," Sokka says to The Duke, then turns back to Zuko. "Punch people, or demand lies?" Sokka asks, and Zuko circles the air upwards with his chin to indicate the former, or at least, Sokka assumes. "Yeah. Pretty much a hazard of having her around. You'll get used to it."

"Lunch is ready," Katara announces, and they rise. Zuko stays sitting, as though he's not sure they're going to bring him along for food.

"Come on," Sokka says, putting a hand under Zuko's arm to pull him to his feet. Together they go over to the fallen stone slab that's serving as a table. Lunch looks like a tasty mix of broccoli, rice, and sliced foraged mushrooms cooked in what's probably the last of their walnut oil. Usually they stay away from mushrooms, because fungi are just too risky, but Haru is an expert at separating the delicious safe species from the delicious species that causes a rash and the other extra-delicious variety that induces vomiting.

Katara dishes the mixture into bowls and passes them out. Sokka guides Zuko to a spot beside their makeshift table and sits him down on the ground. As Zuko sits down, Katara slaps one of their three sets of chopsticks on the table in front of him. Zuko looks up at her as though he's not sure what it means.

"So who's feeding the Fire prince?" Haru asks as he accepts his bowl.

"Not it, I'm the knots guy," Sokka says. "I'll tie him up and guard him, I'm not feeding him."

"Me neither. We're doing the guard thing," The Duke agrees.

"Let's let him feed himself," Aang says.

Katara, naturally, strongly objects. "That'll mean untying him."

"Do you want to feed him?" Sokka asks Katara, leaning behind Zuko's back as if to untie him, and Katara shakes her head.

"If we're untying him to go to the bathroom, why are we keeping him tied up during meals?" Aang asks, and it's a fair question, albeit one that no one answers.

To Sokka the answer is obvious: to punish Zuko. To make him miserable for all the times he threatened them, attacked them, frightened them, came after them relentlessly and wouldn't stop coming. Aang doesn't get it, because Aang barely has a vengeful bone in his body.

"I'll feed him," Teo offers. Teo's the same way and with even less reason for a grudge. "I don't mind."

Sokka re-evaluates. Some adjustment will be needed if Teo's going to be the one to feed Zuko, because sitting crosslegged on the ground where Sokka stationed him puts Zuko at the wrong height. "Sit on the table Zuko," Sokka says, swiping the pair of chopsticks off the table, and after Zuko moves where he's told, Sokka sits down next to him. Teo rolls his chair close, and Sokka passes him the chopsticks.

Katara gives Sokka a steaming bowl, and he watches Teo and Zuko kind of by default while he eats, because Zuko's next to him and Teo's in his barrow-chair right in front of them both. Zuko leans forward to accept each bite. The rice is perfectly cooked and clings to the broccoli and mushrooms. Teo patiently ladles the mixture into Zuko's mouth bite by bite, ignoring his own serving in his lap. "You should feed yourself first, yours is going to get cold," Haru says to Teo. Katara looks over.

Teo shrugs and gives Zuko another bite. "Then his will get cold."

"Yes, but he's the prisoner," Katara says.

Teo smiles slightly. "My father did his best to keep us out of the war, but we talked about all that stuff, and I was taught to believe you're only as good as how you treat your captives."

"But no pressure, right?" Sokka says before he shovels some delicious juicy rice-covered mushroom slices into his mouth.

"You're way too nice, Flyboy," Toph says with her mouth full. Toph's lounging on the ground a few feet away from Sokka, and as she talks a few grains of flying rice sail through the air and stick on Sokka's shins like catapulted boulders lodging in Ba Sing Se's wall.

Sokka brushes at them. "Toph, if you're gonna talk with your mouth full, please face... somewhere other than me."

Teo tilts Zuko's bowl and scrapes the sides with the chopsticks, gathering the next bite together. "Do you know what the Fire Nation does with prisoners of war?"

Zuko stiffens almost imperceptibly beside Sokka, although Teo's not addressing him. "Sometimes they dress them up in Fire Nation uniforms and put them weaponless on the front lines," Teo says. "Most go to work camps. The camps are supposed to be awful. There's hunger and abuse. Someone like me would be straightaway executed as useless."

"They kill a lot of people outright," Katara says coldly, her eyes on Zuko.

"I just think we can and should do better. We took a prisoner, we should treat him with kindness," Teo finishes. "He didn't ask to be here."

"Yes he did, actually," Katara points out. "You and The Duke and Haru missed that part. He showed up and literally asked, if we wouldn't accept him as a friend, to stay as our prisoner." Katara adds, somewhat unnecessarily, "And we certainly weren't having him as a friend."

"That's right, you did say he asked," Teo says easily, unbothered as he carefully administers another bite. "But he didn't ask to be mistreated, and it doesn't cost anything to be humane to him. Except lukewarm food, and I can live with that."

"It costs cold food _and_ fussing with chopsticks," Sokka says. They all know Sokka thinks chopsticks are annoying and stupid, which they clearly are except maybe in specific circumstances when they allow a man to pass as a Fire Nation citizen or keep his fingers out of a Fire prince's mouth.

Teo flashes his warm and winning smile. "Katara's a good enough cook that the food's still delicious after it's cool."

Katara smiles back at him, and only Teo could get away with urging benevolence to Zuko and still wheedle a smile out of her.

"Oh, stop flattering her," Sokka says, rolling his eyes. Katara is a good cook, though, Sokka has to give her that. Since Aang so dramatically defrosted into their lives and made them inadvertent world travelers, they've had to figure out how to prepare a lot of unfamiliar foods in real time and with minimal instruction. Katara's got strong instincts for guesstimating how to do all that stuff.

"Give me that," Katara says, reaching for Teo's bowl. "I'll keep it warm for you until you're ready for it," Katara says, and she visibly considers her options--putting the bowl near the fire, or scraping Teo's portion back into the main pot.

"Here," Toph says, and with one hand she casually raises a stone arch over the edge of the fire, then spreads fingers and palm flat to give it a flat top, and Katara sets Teo's bowl on that.

"Hey, what are we doing with the food Zuko brought?" Sokka rattles off the list of Fire Nation grub, which he may or may not have memorized. "Should we split it however many ways based on whomever wants to eat it?"

Sokka and Haru have survived all morning, which is apparently enough for Katara to have mellowed on her fears of poison-laced Fire Nation food. "Sure, that works," Katara says with a shrug, and so after they're done Sokka retrieves the slightly snacked-on smoked sea slug on the grounds that it's probably going to keep the shortest time. Aang, Katara, and Teo all decline, Aang because he's a vegetarian, Katara because she maintains having no interest in Zuko's food, and Teo because it's a sea slug and he's clearly revolted, even if he attempts valiantly to keep that opinion to himself. Everyone else is on board. Sokka impales the slug on a makeshift kebab stick and takes fifteen minutes to warm it over the fire, patiently rotating the meat. Then he cuts the slug into five shares and distributes them into the appropriate lunch bowls, carving off an equal portion for Zuko because that seems only fair.

Then they dig in. Except for Teo, who seems reluctant to so much as poke the sea slug at the end of his utensils. Zuko says nothing, only watching as Teo stares down at Zuko's allotment of slug with his mouth twisted in distaste, and Sokka, with fingers already covered in delectable salty sea slug juices, takes pity on Teo, who really is too nice for this world.

"I'll do it," Sokka sighs, taking Zuko's lunch bowl from Teo and shredding the chunk of smoked meat into pieces. Teo's earlier words send a pair of adages running through his head: _no act of kindness is ever wasted_ ; _no good deed goes unpunished_. Both seem applicable. Picking up a sliver of sea slug with his finger and thumb, Sokka pops the bite into Zuko's mouth, then licks the brine off the tips of his fingers without thinking. He's half-expecting Zuko to complain about hygiene and food sanitation, but Zuko averts his eyes from Sokka and chews and swallows, staying silent the whole time. As Sokka thought, the experience is way too buddy-buddy for enemies. Zuko keeps his eyes lowered while he chews, raises his eyes when he's ready for another mouthful, and opens his mouth when he sees a bite coming his way. Sokka intermittently takes bites of his own serving while Zuko chews, because screw that cold food thing, he is not letting Zuko ruin his savory sea slug dining experience.

All in all, it's like feeding an unusually cooperative toddler. Feeding and toileting the little kids should be women's work, but Sokka used to get conscripted into it from time to time, because in the Southern Water Tribe, everyone does what needs doing at any given time, and also because the boys all seemed to need to go to the bathroom the minute he got them into warrior training hour, which in the end was generally more like half an hour because their attention spans were even smaller than their bladders. Sokka sighs at the memory.

Despite not throwing or spitting out food like one of the village yearlings, the process is made awkward and strained by the fact that Zuko is Sokka's age and an invading jerk from the Fire Nation and Sokka has hated him since the first second they met, if not before.

On top of that, at home it's a long-standing Water Tribe wedding tradition for the new husband and wife to feed seaweed cookies to each other at the celebration. Sokka grimaces just to think about it, because when that day comes for him, it's probably going to dredge up a remembrance of feeding Zuko, just like feeding Zuko is making him think about feeding the toddlers. Maybe by the time he gets married, the memory of handfeeding Prince Pissyass of the Fire Nation will be funny. Right now, it's just super uncomfortable.

Sokka decides to avoid looking at him entirely to give himself some aloofness from the situation, but when he attempts to feed Zuko a bite without looking, he ends up negligently mashing sea slug into Zuko's nostrils.

Zuko jerks his head back and glares and the piece of sea slug tumbles down to his lap. "Watch it," he snaps, like he's the guard indulging a captive with a favor and Sokka's the one tied up. Sea slug juices glisten in a big smear around his nostrils and on the tip of his nose.

"Oops," Sokka says lamely, retrieving the bite. "Smells nice though, doesn't it?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> December 18, 2020 - Fixed the canonical mistake where I forgot Zuko was carrying around Iroh's sandal for two seasons. Whoops.


	2. Getting to Know You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. [ Sinuous ](/users/Sinuous/) did the most phenomenal art of [Sokka feeding Zuko](https://i.imgur.com/sA96NGE.jpg) for chapter one! I died from sheer delight because it is perfection :D  
> 2\. No major content warnings save for the fact that I'm fare-thee-welling the Gen tag and going to M/M, which this fic will eventually be. Please mind the additional tags. For this chapter, however, the genfic vibe mostly continues apace. Sokka again has one (1) arguably sexist internal monologue thought (at least he's learned to keep them to himself...?) and there's a reference to the single instance of gender policing in chapter one that I forgot to warn for. Also, one slowly-unlearning-ableist-assumptions moment.  
> 3\. A note about the Angry Katara tag: for the record, I am not a Katara h8r or aiming to write Katara hate. I like Katara very much. However, Katara loathes Zuko at this point in time in canon and given her unkind and disdainful treatment of him in _The Western Air Temple_ and _The Southern Raiders_ , I believe she would behave similarly hatefully towards him in this situation, in which she is angry and disgusted to have half the Gaang beginning to accept him. Furthermore, given the Sokka POV and the ongoing disagreement they have in this story, there's an undercurrent of sibling annoyance and a certain amount of superficial negativity towards her. All just FYI.  
> 4\. I've been sitting on chapter two while working on chapter three, revisiting chapter two a lot because I'm not really happy with it. It's not getting any better for the wait though. It's connective tissue to get to chapter three, in which a lot more stuff happens. Chapter three asap.

Lunch conversations are usually fairly lively since the new guys joined them. The whole lot of them were depressed when they got to the Western Air Temple after being so soundly thrashed by the Fire Nation, but not a single one of them is the type to stay down. New faces, new likes and dislikes, new life experiences and memories to share. They have a lot to talk about.

Today's lunch passes in near-silence, almost certainly due to Zuko's presence, but at some point Aang starts happily chattering about the Fire Nation festival they attended. Aang loves to reminisce, much more than your average twelve year old kid in Sokka's estimation, probably because he grew up in such a different time, and because lately Aang's eager to hold forth on just about any topic that takes his mind off the unwanted responsibility descending like a meteor, or perhaps a comet, towards his normally happy-go-lucky tattooed head. Though Aang's preferred method of dealing is denial, leaving him still sunny most of the time, there's a trace of anxiety perceptible in him more often now, and he sometimes seems strained or even turns sullen.

Sokka carefully feeds Zuko the remainder of Zuko's portion of sea slug, taking care not to misaim any more bites. After Sokka's tossed the last piece into Zuko's mouth and Zuko's swallowed it, Sokka reaches down to Zuko's water cup and dips his fingertips in, then leans forward and wipes with wet fingers at the salty film of brine daubed on and under Zuko's nose. Zuko firmly shuts his eyes and endures Sokka's cleanup stolidly and without flinching, like an young warrior getting his face painted for the first time. Sokka goes back for more water, gives the upper lip a few more swabbings, then deems Zuko sufficiently neatened up. Some of the droplets trickle down Zuko's chin and fall onto his shirt and overtunic, dampening the silk.

Sokka tunes Aang out, and indeed, Katara's the only one really listening to Aang. The rest of them, Sokka realizes when he straightens, are either watching him tend to their prisoner or studying Zuko directly. Except for Toph, who's staring sightlessly into space the way she always does, and Teo who's looking at Haru.

Sokka's eyes fall to the sloppy coil of damp, narrow rope waiting across the terrace by the fountain. "I think we should leave Zuko ungagged from now on," Sokka suggests aloud, addressing no one in particular.

Zuko looks sideways at him, unmistakably surprised, his mismatched eyes inquisitive and maybe even hopeful. Aang halts his discourse about Fire Nation festival theatrics mid-sentence.

"I agree," Toph says disinterestedly.

Katara leans forward, her eyes flashing with swift and dangerous anger. "I had _one condition_ about taking him as a prisoner, Sokka--"

"Yeah, I don't think giving him more leeway is a good idea," Haru agrees. "It's been like four hours, he almost killed us all yesterday, let's be careful about this."

Sokka makes a face. "Well, then one of you guys can be the one to handle his gag, because the rope gets soaked with spit and it's gross to touch."

Zuko's curious, wondering expression neutralizes and he turns his head away, making Sokka feel irrationally guilty.

The yuck factor is not the real reason Sokka wants to call it quits with the gag; Sokka has a high tolerance for stuff other people think is nasty. Zuko's spit on his fingers was gross for a hot second, but now that Sokka's expecting the moisture he could wipe his hands on his pants and it wouldn't really bother him. The truth is, Zuko's going to have a tough time making his case to Aang and Katara if he can't speak. Sokka's still not completely sure that should be the outcome he's rooting for, but Toph's sure, and Toph knows her stuff. The other reason is that Sokka's pretty sure being gagged is uncomfortable. Even if it's not, Zuko was unmistakably distressed when he realized their intent to gag him.

Sokka's not expecting anyone eager to volunteer for the task.

"I'll take over gagging the ashmaker," The Duke says immediately, apparently unbothered by the prospect of cold saliva against his fingers.

"Oh. Okay. Great," Sokka says, because it figures The Duke would be all over anything that makes Zuko miserable. Sokka didn't fully think that one through.

"What are we afraid he'll do, exactly, if he's not gagged?" Teo asks.

"Uh, burn someone?" Katara says like the answer's obvious. Sokka shoots her a dirty look, because he hates when she's patronizing. Katara either fails to notice or pretends not to.

The Duke balls one hand up in Zuko's silk overtunic and starts leading their prisoner back to the low pillar by the fountain that Katara chose. Zuko makes no protest about the rough handling. The Duke backs Zuko into his seat and wastes no time in picking up the damp rope and winding it around Zuko's head. 

"Be right back," Sokka tells The Duke, and he departs the courtyard to make a quick trip to the supply room. He returns with a blank sheet of paper, the inkbox and a clean brush. Sokka sets them down on the edge of the fountain with a flourish.

"The schedule?" Toph asks, bored.

"The schedule," Sokka confirms, drawing his space sword, kneeling down, and using the edge of the blade to paint a chart with nice straight lines.

"Put me down for tomorrow morning," Toph says, so Sokka obliges her and assigns tomorrow's afternoon shift to Aang. Sokka had the morning and will continue into the early afternoon, and Katara can take over from mid-afternoon to evening. But for the two days they've been at the Western Air Temple so far, everyone tends to gather on the terrace before the sun sets, so a particular guard probably won't generally be needed for that window of time. 

The original four of them, all well-known quantities to each other, are still figuring out the new guys' habits, preferences, strengths and weaknesses. Teo can cook and do meal prep but not easily wash dishes. The Duke's clueless about cooking at any level beyond jamming a dead lizard on a stick and holding it over a fire, but he proved an energetic and diligent janitor when they were clearing out some of the chaotically disordered and dirty Air Temple rooms. Haru can and will do just about anything that needs doing, though in Sokka's opinion his skills would be best utilized by daily mushroom hunts. 

Sokka splits the night into four watches and gives himself the undesirable third shift, partly cause he's awesome like that, and partly cause he wants to get his turn at the crappy watch out of the way now instead of having it hanging over his head for the next three days.

Focused on his charts, Sokka only half-hears Teo and Haru discussing which pagoda to start exploring next. The Western Air Temple is as enormous as any city save Ba Sing Se, and even with most of the rooms trashed, rock walls deteriorated, debris and wreckage strewn around, and surprise skeletons unpleasantly scattered everywhere, the pagodas are semi-enjoyable to tour and poke around. Yesterday before Combustion Man's attack, Teo, Haru and The Duke evidently stumbled upon a winding staircase that ended in a short balcony with no railing and an abrupt fifty-foot dropoff into a deep pool below. To hear Teo tell it, by the time the trio realized they were gathering on a high-diving platform, it was too late to stop, or The Duke bumped into Teo's chair, or something, and Teo sailed off the edge into the drink. Haru dived in after him and pulled Teo's barrow-chair out of the pool, and The Duke leapt after them, and perhaps most interestingly, it turns out Teo can swim. Teo's arms are strong and fairly buff, so it checks out. Sokka wouldn't have guessed, though.

And apparently it was fun, because they've been pestering Sokka to come see the room ever since. This time they're going to leave the chair below and Haru's going to carry Teo up to the platform and drop him.

Sokka is arguably a bit curious as to how an indoor manmade pool has stayed full of water in the absence of people living in the Air Temple to perform upkeep, but fifty feet sounds like a pretty long distance to fall. Sokka may be only fifteen, but his judgement is a touch too sound to do a stunt that risky for no good reason, at least not without first thinking it through. Plus his dad taught him a few things about breaking a fall, surface tension, and terminal velocity, all of which float through his mind when he thinks about the prospect of jumping from a questionable height.

From the sound of it, Haru and Teo are planning to go find the room again to repeat the experience, so at least some people like that sort of thing. Sokka might check it out, at some point, before they leave the Air Temple. But not today.

Katara and Aang head out for waterbending practice by the glittering crystal blue lake at the bottom of the canyon, and if 'waterbending practice' is now a euphemism Sokka doesn't want to know about it. Sokka gives them a suspicious look and lets it go. "Katara, you have Zuko duty in three hours!" Sokka yells at their retreating backs. 

"Okay," Katara shouts back.

When Sokka next looks up from his schedule, figuring out what he's looking at takes him a second, but he realizes The Duke is longingly watching Teo and Haru take off for wherever they've decided to head.

"Why don't you go with them?" Sokka suggests.

The Duke turns and sits up straight, attaining his full height. "They don't understand the importance of properly guarding prisoners."

Sokka holds back the laugh that bubbles up in his chest, keeping a straight face. The kid's adorable. "Toph and I have the prisoner well in hand," Sokka assures him. Toph is lounging conveniently by the fountain, ideal for being volunteered. "And Katara's getting him in like, two hours." Sokka's exaggerating by almost an hour, but that's okay. "Take a break, we won't let the firebender escape."

Calling Zuko 'the firebender' works like a pair of magic words; Sokka can see The Duke's mind change right on his face as he reconsiders. The Duke nods to him, warrior to warrior, soldier to soldier, sober and unsmiling in their sacred commitment. Then the Duke takes off chasing after his two friends, whooping as he runs, yelling at them to wait up. It's sad, really, that the kid can't just be a kid.

"It's messed up how young he is," Sokka says to Toph, which isn't the full extent of what he means, but close enough.

Toph shrugs. "That's war for you, Grandpa."

"Why, when I was his age," Sokka riffs in a creaky, wavering faux-elderly voice, but no funny destination comes to mind after that. "I wove a lot of nets and made a lot of snowshoes," Sokka finishes in his normal voice.

Sokka watches The Duke go, then sits down on the ledge of the fountain and pulls off his boots.

Sokka still has the two-day old fading blisters from trudging across what felt like a freaking continent to get to the Air Temple. The welts are shrunken and receding fluid-filled sacs now, limp with stretched skin after Katara spent thirty seconds healing them. Sokka's been taking his boots off a couple of times a day and soaking his feet in the fountain. Turning to face the water, Sokka slips his legs in up to his shins.

"Come over here, Zuko," Sokka requests, and when Zuko rises and follows his instruction, Sokka pats the edge of the fountain next to him. "Turn around and sit."

Zuko obligingly perches where Sokka indicated, facing away from the water and angling his head slightly for Sokka to unknot the gag. The Duke tied the rope around Zuko's face more snugly than Sokka did, though not tightly enough to leave marks. Sokka also discovers that some of Zuko's dark hair has been pulled and twisted into the wrapped rope. Sokka takes the gag off mostly to talk to Zuko further, but also to give the guy's mouth a rest from being propped open for the last stretch of time before Sokka passes over the task of watching him to Katara. Zuko gratefully flexes his jaw as soon as the gag is out.

"Thanks," Zuko says hoarsely, like his voice is gravelly from disuse, even though he spoke a sentence during lunch.

"Sure," Sokka says. The three of them aren't ideally positioned to have a conversation, since Sokka's facing the fountain and Zuko's sitting next to him but facing away from it, and Toph is off to the side, but Sokka's not planning on moving. The day's slowly progressing from comfortable to hot, and the cool water feels refreshing on his skin. "I have further questions," Sokka announces. "What's special about the fruit tart?"

"Nothing," Zuko says, though the word sounds hollow. Maybe that's just Zuko's weird raspy voice though. He sounds like he has a perpetually sore throat, and he has a faint underlying lisp too. "It's a fruit tart."

"Hmph," Sokka says, then looks at Toph for a fact check. Hard to believe when Zuko looked so nostalgic gazing at it. "Is that true?"

"Yeah, there's nothing special about the fruit tart," Toph affirms.

"Okay, why the little brown bag of money?" Sokka asks.

Zuko activates what at this point sounds like a rehearsed answer. "I didn't have any food or money for a while when I was traveling in the Earth Kingdom--"

Sokka splashes his feet up and down impatiently. "Yeah I know, but why a little brown broadcloth bag? It's like something a normal person would carry. You brought a freaking solid gold flask--"

"It's not--" Zuko starts, but as Sokka continues talking over him he falls silent.

"--and what's probably a priceless relic of Fire Nation royalty that belonged to the last Avatar. You had plenty of money. So why the crummy little cloth purse?"

"It's the coin purse I used in the Earth Kingdom," Zuko says, sounding mystified by the question. "Where I was living as a 'normal person' for months. When I left home I brought what I had on hand, and what I could get ahold of in the palace. Who cares what a purse is like?"

"Captain Boomerang has always cared about his bag matching his belt matching his purse," Toph says.

Toph has him dead to rights, so Sokka leans into it, smirking with all the cockiness his sophisticated fashion sense deserves. "Hey, if you have it in you to look stylin', why not?"

If there's one thing Sokka's learned in the course of the past year, it's that no one can tell his feigned confidence from authentic self-assurance, which in itself shores up the house of cards that is his usual level of inner poise. "He had a really strange mishmash of stuff, that's all," Sokka adds, and he shakes his head disappointedly. "With those kinds of funds, I expect fashion and good taste. I expect _trendsetting_."

Zuko stares at Sokka like he's insane. "I had bigger things to worry about."

Sokka's about to argue there's always room for fashion when Toph breaks in. "Here's what I want to know," Toph demands. "You're a firebender. Why did you bring candles? Can't you just hold a fireball in your hand for light?"

Zuko shrugs, then gets a slightly self-conscious look on his face Sokka's familiar with-- the look of someone gesticulating to Toph who's just remembered Toph can't see them. Little does Zuko know. "Sometimes it's convenient to light a candle or a lantern and not have to focus on the flame," Zuko explains.

"So you're lazy, in other words," Sokka says, and miraculously, instead of scowling at him, Zuko's good eye narrows with what might be comprehension, and the twitch of a muscle in his cheek says he understands that this was a joke. Zuko tilts his head back the slightest bit as though to acknowledge he's aware Sokka's trying to get his goat, and he's not taking the bait.

"They're also good for meditation," Zuko says, not at all rising to the challenge of matching Sokka's wit. Not even trying. His face stays as grave as an Earth Kingdom funeral.

"I-- have a question," Zuko says, briefly pulling his lips inward to moisten them. His uneven eyes bounce back and forth between them in a way that can only be described as nervous. He's got to be one of the most awkward people Sokka's ever met, and some of Aang's more socially maladroit fans have significantly lowered the bar. The prince of the Fire Nation is much better at radiating fury and issuing threats than carrying on a conversation. Maybe the Fire Lord and the Fire Lady fought in front of him a lot when he was a kid. Or maybe oodles of yelling is the normal way the Fire Lord rules, in which case Zuko's exquisitely well-prepared for the throne and it's a true shame he's been disowned. Either way, how the heck he passed as an Earth Kingdom waiter for months is a mindbender. "Why did everyone in your group come to collect me?"

"If you think it was for any special reason, you're probably overthinking it," Toph tells Zuko.

Sokka strokes his chin, bored enough to put real thought into his answer. "The excitement of taking a captive generally, I'd say," Sokka theorizes. "Plus it's not everyday we get a full surrender from a Fire Nation royal. _And_ a longtime adversary. Dramatic stuff, even if you didn't put up a fight."

"That's a lot of words to say we just didn't have anything more interesting going on," Toph says. "You might have noticed it's kind of dull around here." Toph openly buries her index finger in a nostril and starts picking her nose in that blatant way she does, with a bold and indifferent flair that smacks of dedication to really cleaning herself out.

Zuko stares at her, looking taken aback by her manners or lack thereof, but he's wise enough to infer who his main ally here is, and he says nothing. Zuko glances at Sokka with his good eye wide and his single eyebrow halfway up his forehead into his hair, as if seeking confirmation-- _are you seeing this? is this actually happening? is this normal?_

Sokka grins broadly in answer, and Zuko almost-- _almost_ \-- smiles back at him. Zuko's expression is a weak upwards curve, like his muscles are instinctively trying to smile but his face hasn't quite figured out how.

"I mean, since you volunteered for prisoner-dom... prisoner-hood?... we were pretty sure you weren't going to fly off the handle when we showed, and if you did, you were outnumbered seven to one, with multiple benders and the Avatar in the mix," Sokka reasons.

"Not to mention the greatest earthbender of all time," Toph says, rolling a freshly harvested booger between index finger and thumb before flicking it away, thankfully not in their direction. Toph has that much politeness... usually.

"You'll let her have that if you know what's good for you," Sokka tells Zuko.

"'Let me?'" Toph says. "Like his opinion matters."

Zuko makes a small noise in his throat, a submissive and placating sound.

"He knows," Toph says. "Even with my feet burned I kicked his ass."

Zuko lowers his eyes. "I mean, I really wasn't trying to hurt you, but yeah, no argument."

"By 'let you have that' I just meant 'generally show respect to people who can smash you flat,'" Sokka clarifies. Toph snorts and flicks away another booger, and Sokka picks up what he was saying before. "And Katara was there if you did resist and anyone got injured," Sokka goes on. "And sure, The Duke's just a kid, but he's been in as many scrapes as the rest of us."

Sokka looks sideways and realizes Zuko's eyes have fixed on Sokka's lap and hips. Zuko studies the area with an intensity that makes Sokka uncomfortable for the three point seven seconds before the reason for Zuko checking out his downstairs becomes clear. "Where did my dagger go?" Zuko asks. The guy's haunting yellow eyes rise to meet his, making Sokka realize just how close together they're sitting.

"Oh." Sokka never meant to keep the dagger, though he realizes now he may have inadvertently given Zuko that impression. During his trip to their supply room Sokka tucked the fancy dagger into Zuko's knapsack. Sokka puts his hand on trusty old Knifey, which he likes better than any overwrought la-dee-da precious-stones Earth Kingdom crap, and which with its blue leather-wrapped hilt incidentally matches his outfit. Not that color coordination is the most important thing, but style points merit note. "Your knapsack unpacked badly, it was just in my belt for convenience. I put it with your stuff." Another thought occurs to Sokka. "We're not gonna sell your swords either, I just said that so Katara wouldn't argue about bringing them with us." 

"Manipulative," Toph says. "I like it."

Zuko gives Sokka a long, considering look. "Thanks," he says, after a pause.

"No problem." Sokka takes a breath and attempts to make the moment yet friendlier with his second question. "Hey, is there anything you're particularly attached to that you'd like to have with you? Not the weapons, obviously, but like your uncle's portrait or something?"

Zuko flashes what might be a tiny spirit wisp of a smile at this offer. "I don't think that would weather well out here."

"Maybe your very pretty comb? Toph could detangle your hair," Sokka proposes. "She's very gentle."

Zuko's forehead creases as his placid expression vanishes, perhaps in distress at the thought of serving as Toph's doll and having his hair ripped out at the roots.

"Ha!" Toph says, amused. "Hair is dumb. Taking care of my own is enough work, I'm not doing his. You do it."

"I don't care about his hair, I'm just trying to be nice," Sokka argues.

"You think it'd be nice for him to have a blind girl do his hair?"

"I thought he might want his comb," Sokka says exasperatedly, lightly kicking his feet in the water.

Zuko glances between them again. "It's good just to know the paintings are safe," Zuko says with unexpected diplomacy. "But-- thanks for asking."

"Sure." Sokka rolls his pants up higher, to mid-thigh, and splashes water up over his knees. "We may not sell your stuff, but you should know we're totally spending your money next time we're in five hundred miles of the nearest market."

"That's fine. That's good," Zuko says, visibly relaxing. "Helping your group any way I can is a good cause."

Sokka pins Zuko with his eyes, staring him down and watching him carefully for micro-changes in his expression. "You really mean all this stuff about having changed."

"Yes," Zuko answers, looking at Sokka earnestly with his messed-up, ugly, devastatingly handsome face.

"Yeah," Toph says, like the question bores her at this point. "And he's gonna be a fun friend, I can tell."

Zuko looks like he's been suddenly handed some kind of award and is up onstage drawing a blank, stunned and speechless.

"I mean... I guess he's fun to tease." Sokka pauses. "How can you tell?"

"Because he's funny," Toph says simply.

Sokka takes mock umbrage and objects lightheartedly, simulating an offended glare. Toph will know he's kidding, and Zuko... probably will. Sokka did tell Zuko he was funny earlier this morning. "Hey, _I'm_ the funny one around here."

"He's funny in a totally different way, Snoozles, never fear," Toph says.

"I bet he doesn't know a single knock-knock joke."

Zuko clears his throat.

"Oh man, do you?" Sokka tries not to laugh. "Oh shit Toph, he's going to tell a joke."

"Knock knock," Zuko says as tentatively as Sokka's ever heard him say anything.

"Who's there?" Sokka and Toph say in unison. Sokka smiles over at her, because Toph sounds delighted.

"Adore," Zuko mumbles, so rushed and awkward Sokka's not even sure he heard right.

Sokka raises his eyebrows, his mind working overtime. He likes wordplay. "Was that 'adore' as in love or 'a door' as in the thing--"

Toph waves Sokka silent. "Shh! Adore who?"

"Adore is between us, open up," Zuko says weakly. Sokka curls his hand into a fist and pulls down his elbow in a victory move, because he is and always will be the punmaster.

Toph laughs like it's the funniest thing she's heard all week, rocking her torso up and back down, and Sokka can't help but smile again, both at how ineptly Zuko told it and how entertained Toph is.

"The guy knows a joke. Mind blown," Sokka says amiably. "Don't have an aneurysm, Toph."

"I know another one, Uncle's favorite tea joke," Zuko says. "Uh. Well, I can't remember how it starts, but the punchline is, 'leaf me alone, I'm bushed!'"

"You should think about learning the setup of that one, I bet it's pretty funny," Toph says, one side of her mouth pulled up in a strong smirk. "I hope you're as good a firebending teacher as you are a comedian."

Zuko looks uncertain as to whether she's making fun of him. Sokka's not sure either, when they come right down to it. "I guess if I ever see Uncle again," Zuko says, sounding depressed.

The manner in which Zuko utters the disconnected punchline-- in an atrociously accented imitation of his uncle's deep voice-- gets Sokka thinking serious thoughts. The prince of the Fire Nation, who used to badly frighten the original three of them, comes across as almost completely harmless now, a benign and relatively wholesome teenager, a lot like the rest of them except less fun-loving, constantly somber of face, and unbelievably dorky. Sokka gazes sideways at Zuko and tries to think of anyone he's been conditioned to trust less. The guy's sister is creepy as anything and has Suki imprisoned somewhere, and obviously the Fire Lord is public enemy number one, and Zhao comes in at number two on Sokka's personal list because Yue. For all his power-usurping brainwashing scuzziness, Long Feng ranks beneath the tied-up prince who's plagued Team Avatar since day one, and who most recently hired Combustion Man to murder the shit out of them.

Sokka also spares a moment to wonder why Zuko's uncle has a vaguely Earth Kingdom-esque accent Zuko doesn't, but it probably doesn't matter.

Zuko holds Sokka's eyes as though meeting Sokka's gaze is another kind of test.

"Zuko... you are public enemy number four," Sokka informs him. "But I trust your freaky earth powers," Sokka says, turning to Toph. "If you say he's telling the truth, I believe you. And here's the thing-- you're completely right that Aang needs a firebending sifu like, yesterday." Sokka faces the fountain again, watching his feet bounce under the water, because he's going to get a crick in his neck if he keeps looking at Toph. "If Zuko is telling the truth and wants to help defeat the Fire Lord, we need to free him and get Aang to accept him as a teacher. Even if he's been a total pain in the ass, and even if we do hate his guts." Sokka returns his gaze to Zuko. "No offense, Zuko. I'm totally on your side here."

"It's fine," Zuko says, but judging by the minutely tiny upward turn at the corner of his lips, Zuko might be gradually absorbing the idea that Sokka's not all deadly grimdark seriousness like probably everyone else he's ever met. It's a hopeful sign that bodes well for his future sensibilities. As... a friend, or at least a friendly acquaintance, which is the only place this can possibly be heading. Zuko in their friend group. Zuko on Team Avatar. The thought is really, really weird.

"Tell me something I don't know. The clock's ticking," Toph says on the tail end of a yawn.

"You can slide down and sit if you want some back support," Sokka tells Zuko, because he's noticed the citizens of the Fire Nation love their chairs and probably have correspondingly weak back muscles, and also because he's tolerated Zuko being less than a foot away more than long enough. Zuko hesitates, like he thinks freaking everything is a test, then nods once and slides forward, lowering himself to the ground and resting against the fountain.

*

By the time Katara and Aang come back up from the canyon, Sokka's lying down in the afternoon sun feeling close to a nap, and Toph's taking a turn soaking her feet. Zuko's still sitting with his back to the base of the fountain and his head tilted back to rest against the stone, but as the hours have passed Zuko's gradually edged around the circle of the fount, slow-tracking the sun like his upturned face is a flower. Sokka never bothered putting his boots back on, and he shades his eyes with his hand and squints up at Aang and Katara sleepily. "Hey guys, what do you think of putting Zuko to work? He could do our laundry, brush Appa, do the mending, collect firewood--"

"Absolutely not," Katara says immediately. "We can't trust him loose. Look what happened to Toph's feet."

"That was an accident, Sugar Queen," Toph says with a sigh, lifting her feet out of the fountain and wriggling her toes. "I told you."

Zuko keeps his eyes closed during this exchange, like he sees no point in even following along, until Toph calls Katara 'Sugar Queen,' which makes his eyes pop open as his head turns to check out Katara's reaction. However, Katara's long since accepted the nickname that brought on seething outrage the first time Toph tested it out, and if Zuko expected histrionics, he's gonna be disappointed. Zuko's not wrong to ignore most of the conversation, though, because the outcome of discussions involving him being tied up are more or less predetermined for now. Sokka, too, knew what Katara was going to say.

"And he could cause even more accidents if we let him loose," Katara says with a frown, like she's deducing she can't count on Sokka and Toph to be as hostile to Zuko as she is. "That's why we went out and brought him back in the first place, remember? So why isn't he gagged?"

Katara takes a seat on one of the scattered low pillars like she's planning to stick around, so for the sake of keeping up appearances Sokka has to haul himself to his feet to gag Zuko again. "We're interrogating him about the stuff he brought," Sokka says dismissively, which is true enough. Mostly true. Like two and a half hours ago it was true. Toph's not going to tattle on him though.

Katara glances towards the empty pillar where she directed Zuko earlier. "And why is he out of his spot?"

"Was that the designated Zuko spot?" Sokka asks wide-eyed, the most guileless man in the Southern Water Tribe. "As long as he's tied and gagged, does it really matter where he sits?"

"But he's not gagged?" Aang questions, sounding more curious than accusing.

Katara's accusatory enough for both of them, and she presses harder as Sokka sits on the fountain's edge and slides over to Zuko. "And why did it look like you were closer to dozing off than guarding him?"

The secret to good fibbing is to stake a convincing base claim and then to avoid elaborating at all costs. "It's a casual interrogation," Sokka says.

"Meaning you've been what-- chatting?" Katara asks darkly. "Napping together?"

"Nah, I'm napping with Toph. Zuko's just here," Sokka responds cheerfully, keeping his tone every bit as light as hers is steamed. Zuko glances over his shoulder and willingly leans forward to let Sokka ease behind him and bind his mouth, and he shoots Sokka a single look that might qualify as gratitude-- maybe for the time spent without the gag, maybe for believing him or at least believing Toph, maybe for being on his side. Fuck, how is Sokka on _Zuko's_ side?

"What is my life," Sokka mumbles, keeping it too soft and garbled for anyone to hear. "He's not causing trouble," Sokka says more audibly.

"Hey, don't get comfortable, Baldy," Toph says as Aang's about to sit down next to Katara. Toph swings her legs out of the fountain and plants her bare feet. "It's earthbending time."

Aang sighs. "Okay."

Toph and Aang set off to throw rocks around elsewhere in the Air Temple, leaving Katara and Sokka alone with Zuko. Sokka needs to pee, so he stands up. "Zuko, bathroom?"

Zuko nods and rises to his feet. To humor Katara Sokka decides to leave Zuko's wrists bound for the duration of the trip to the trees. Sokka nods at him to move forward, and Zuko seems to realize relatively fast that he's not getting untied. Zuko proceeds in the direction of the garden, and Sokka follows him. They walk in silence. Zuko pauses a few feet before the trees, looking back, and Sokka walks past him and slips in between them first. When he's finished, he goes out and unties Zuko's hands, and after Zuko finishes his business in the trees Sokka reties him. The procedure has the strange feel of ritual.

Katara looks up when they return. "Hey, where's The Duke?"

"He wanted to go exploring more with Teo and Haru, it was obvious," Sokka says as he settles down on a fallen slab near the fountain. On a whim Sokka lies on his side and rests his chin on his hand. "So I prodded him to go. He's just a kid, he shouldn't have to be doing all responsible adult stuff."

"He was so insistent about helping guard Zuko," Katara says, sounding surprised The Duke was willing to take off.

"Well, he really hates the Fire Nation," Sokka says. "But he's also--"

"Of course he hates them, he's an orphan," Katara interrupts with a significant look at Zuko.

"--had enough time guarding Zuko to discover it's super boring," Sokka finishes.

Zuko's a good prisoner, staying unobtrusively conticent and mostly still while they talk around him, and since no one explicitly told him to move to his pillar, he returned to his spot against the fountain, his face turned again to the afternoon sun. Like Sokka said, boring. On a whim Sokka impersonates the speech mannerisms of that scientific animal observer weirdo they met in the Earth Kingdom. Sokka can't remember the enthusiast's name, but the combination of his accent and speech patterns will never be forgotten. "The wild Prince Zuko, once captured, sits around being shockingly dull," Sokka intones. "Going from snarling and a mile a minute firebending to tranquil compliance, willingly bound and gagged. The prince's guards will inevitably delve into states of boredom so severe, in the worst cases they have been known to chew off their own limbs to escape. The development of full guard ennui usually takes several days start to finish. In the earliest stages, the guards can be seen looking in dire need of a nap. The smart ones abandon ship early. Only the strongest survive the ordeal."

Katara shakes her head at him. At some point during his improvised monologue Sokka managed to get Zuko's attention, and Zuko's giving him a really strange look. "There's nothing tranquil about him," Katara says.

Sokka glances at Zuko again. It's true that having Katara around has clearly tensed Zuko up a notch or two. "Sure there is, he's like a cat in a patch of sunlight. You know... I didn't think The Duke was an orphan, exactly. I thought he never had a family," Sokka comments. The two aren't quite the same thing. Or... are they?

"Probably because the Fire Nation killed them when he was too little to remember," Katara says, and she changes the subject. "So earlier, Teo and Aang and I sorted through what supplies we have. Stuff got spread around and shared at the Black Cliffs, and we ended up with some unusual food. You're making eggplant tonight."

"Excuse me, egg what now?"

"Eggplant," Katara repeats. "They're a purple fruit meant to be eaten like a vegetable, but one of the Foggy Swamp Tribeswomen said they're hearty like meat. You slice them thin and cook them in oil. There was some debate about whether or not they should be peeled, but since we're kind of scarce on food..." Katara shrugs. "The peel's edible, so let's leave it on."

Fine with Sokka, he'd rather not have the extra work of peeling vegetables. "So they're a meat-textured fruit?" Sokka gives her a suspicious look, because it sounds like she's having him on. "Why is 'egg' in the name if it's a meaty fruit you eat like a vegetable?"

"It's just one of those mysteries," Katara says dryly. "But maybe, if it's meaty but a vegetable, it'll be something both you and Aang like. I figured we could use Zuko's spicy vegetable chip bits for breadcrumbs or a topping."

"Well, dip me in spicy crumbs and call me an eggplant," Sokka says, and then he narrows his eyes and gives Katara his most serious and probing look. "But have you considered they might be poisoned?"

With a flash of her hand Katara generates a small wave of water from the fountain and throws it in his direction. Sokka ducks and the wave flies over his head and hits the stone behind him, drenching the granite ten shades darker. He feels a handful of droplets rebound and hit his neck, but this sibling confrontation is largely a Sokka triumph.

"Haha!" Sokka crows when he sits up.

Katara loses her slight smile and sobers. "We have enough for a few days, but we're going to need more food soon. Of whatever kind. With more of us to feed, it's going to be like before, only worse."

"Grubs, we'll eat grubs," Sokka says to gross her out, but she's far too accustomed to him to be fazed even for a moment. "Well, worst case scenario, we can fly Appa back to the nearest Fire Nation island and visit a market," Sokka concludes, and he nods at her, because it's good she informed him. "We should do some foraging expeditions. Speaking of which, did anyone check my traps today?"

"I did," Katara confirms. "You didn't catch anything."

"Damnit," Sokka says. No supplemental meat. Then he gives Katara a suspicious look, because-- did she take Aang along, or did she traipse into the forest to check the snares alone?

"Don't be protective of me, Sokka," Katara warns, like she's reading his mind. "I can defend myself as well as you. Better, actually."

Sokka decides to let it go, even though he's been doing an awful lot of that lately. "And I'm the one cooking these eggplant thingies why?"

"Because it's your turn to do dinner, and Teo's, and you might as well learn to cook something new," Katara says, and then she gestures to Zuko. "And I'll be busy watching him."

"No, I know it's my turn, it's just-- I can't have something easy?" Sokka asks woefully. Katara will not have mercy. "Something I've seen or heard of before? What other ingredients do we have? What's for dinner tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not," Katara says with a resurgent smile. Katara's been cranky since they brought home their Fire Nation captive, and Sokka only realizes it now that she's back in a good mood. "Maybe the novelty will break you out of your _guard ennui_."

Sokka swings his feet to the stone and stands up bravely. "Very well. Let me at this-- eggplant."

*

Sokka's initial judgment is that although cucumbers continue to hold the reigning title of Most Penis-Like Produce, eggplants are strong second-place wacky contenders and they get extra points for their color. Nature is hilarious. If Katara wouldn't yell at him for being crude and playing with their food, he'd totally carve little faces into a couple of eggplants and make them talk through why they look so much like dicks.

Sokka wavers over whether to slice their phallic meaty fruit-veggie non-egglike dinner lengthwise into long strips or into rounds. He decides first on long strips, on the theory those will give the veggie-fruit more of a cutlet appearance, and then he changes his mind because if he makes the pieces bite-sized, Teo will have a much easier time feeding Zuko. As Sokka begins slicing up the eggplants, the rest of the gang slowly migrate back to home base. Assistant Chef Teo returns with his friends, and Toph and Aang come back from earthbending practice. Sokka waves Teo over. "Tonight's dinner mission, my young associate, is..." Sokka pauses for a suspenseful effect. " _Operation Eggplant_."

"You're like, barely a year older than your 'young associate,'" Toph points out as she settles down by the firepit, but Sokka is undeterred. Some people will say or do anything to stop the mission.

"Cool, I like eggplant," Teo says.

Katara leads Zuko over to the firepit and sits him down so she can keep an eye on Sokka and Teo's progress. Toph earthbends a stone cutting board to custom fit over Teo's chair so Sokka can start him chopping too.

"Try to cut them a little thinner, Teo," Katara suggests. "About a quarter inch thick. You too, Sokka. Try pressing on the slices to squeeze some of the liquid out."

"Alright, you purple monster," Sokka tells a half-inch slice of eggplant as he whacks it with the flat of his space sword. "You're going down. Tonight."

He's aware of Katara watching him in the wry, affectionate way she gets when he hasn't recently pissed her off, and he's aware of Zuko just having eyes on him. Who knows what the guy is thinking, but Sokka doesn't care. He has eggplant to hack.

"I said press, not demolish," Katara scolds as Sokka brings the flat of his sword down again, though she stays sitting instead of getting up to chide him.

"Yeah I don't think you need to beat it to death," Toph says. "It's a plant, it doesn't need to be tenderized."

"That's just what it wants you to think," Sokka says, but he's basically mashed two eggplant slices into mush and rinds, so he stops. He'll use those for... garnish, he'll use them for garnish. Or sneak them in with the other slices and hope the spicy vegetable chip breadcrumbs conceal their mangled state. For the nonce, Sokka sweeps them under a few non-smushed slices so Katara won't see them next time she gets up. Sokka needs to stop messing with the ingredients anyway to get a fire going. Sokka crouches down and stacks kindling in the center of the firepit, then takes a handful of tinder. As he begins striking the flint and pyrite Sokka wonders how Toph knows how to prepare any plant for nomming. "How do you know that, anyway?"

"When I concentrate I can sense its density," Toph says. "Just like I can sense the density of your brain."

Sokka nods sagely, scraping and hitting the flint and pyrite vigorously. "Bet it's well-developed in there, right?"

Toph smirks at him, probably because her riposte's about to be particularly savage. "Your skull's so thick it's actually hard to tell what's up with the contents."

The flash of a spark catches and takes, and Sokka can't deliver a sick comeback because he's bent to the ground frantically blowing on a heap of smoking moss.

"First try," Sokka boasts a minute later, faintly lightheaded from all the blowing. Sokka's pleased with the dehydrated old cottonwood bark and moss he collected for tinder from the forest above the Western Air Temple. Of course, they have the season on their side; fires are always easier to start in summertime, when the weather leaves the usual sources of fuel hot and dry and ready to light up. Sokka nurtures the tiny smoldering flame with more blowing, monitors the nascent blaze for another few moments, then straightens and turns back to the waiting eggplant.

"Just slice it thin, try to squeeze some liquid out, dredge it through the vegetable chips, add salt and some tarragon, and don't use too much oil," Katara instructs, like all that is easy. Sokka sighs.

For a while they have silence. Sokka gets the fire blazing nicely, then uses his space sword to firmly but not violently wring liquid out of the eggplant slices.

"Pressure is not getting much liquid out," Teo says, speaking Sokka's precise thought out loud.

Katara purses her lips, evidently out of ideas. "Just do what you can."

Sokka judiciously drizzles a small amount of the sesame oil into the pan and lets it heat while he puts each slice through a more moderate pressing.

"I've been thinking," Teo says while he cuts and Sokka adds the first slices of eggplant to the sizzling pan, then sprinkles a dash of salt and a more generous pinch of dried chopped tarragon on them. "I want to take a shift watching Zuko tonight."

Sokka glances at Katara and finds her looking at him, and they exchange a look.

"Is that a good idea?" Aang asks.

"Yes," Teo says firmly. "I trust Toph that his intentions are good, and it'll spread the sleep disruption out more."

"So at least two people here have sense," Toph says. "Yay."

"You're... I mean," Katara says awkwardly. "We just don't want you to get hurt."

Sokka glances over at Zuko. Zuko's gaze is lingering on Teo, and when he realizes Sokka's watching him he lowers his yellow eyes. Sokka turns back to the pan and adds more salt to the eggplant. At home everything gets well-salted, and Sokka hates insufficiently salty food. Not enough not to eat it, but he's not a fan.

"Well, it's not like The Duke or Sokka could take him in a fight either," Teo points out.

"Hey!" Sokka exclaims. "Boomerang would have totally knocked him out the day we met if he hadn't been wearing that goofy helmet."

"Yeah, but he could have killed you twice over before you got that hit in," Katara says, grim with the memory.

Sokka crosses his arms while still holding the hot cooking tongs clutched in a folded-up rag, which is riskier and more difficult than it probably looks. "Gosh Katara, thanks for bringing that up."

"My point is, I don't think he's going to do anything," Teo says. "I may not have superpower earthbending senses, but even if Toph couldn't read him, I think we can trust him."

"I want to take a night shift too," The Duke says.

"I will too, if everybody else is," Haru adds.

"Let's make sure Teo and I survive them first," Sokka says sarcastically. Sokka delicately uncrosses his arms to poke with the tongs at a clotting hunk of spicy vegetable chip crumbs, trying to redistribute the delicious-smelling frying lump over the eggplant slices. "Why, it's a miracle we're still alive."

Katara looks unhappy. "All I know is, if he hurts any of you, I'm never going to forgive myself for going along with this prisoner idea. Which if I may remind everyone, was _his_ idea."

Sokka glances again at Zuko, who's sitting hunched over and studying the ground in front of him. Considering how upright he usually keeps his posture, Zuko's mood is easy enough to read when he lowers his head and slouches. "I wasn't as well-trained back then," Sokka grumbles.

"None of us were," Katara says nicely, trying to be conciliatory now. Sokka rolls his eyes.

Katara makes a number of annoying but helpful recommendations and reminders throughout the dinner prep process, and she makes the initial judgements as to when the weird pale-and-purple vegetable meat-fruit is done frying, and she makes the pot of rice too because she's the best at getting that right, and the overall quality of their meals depends a lot on the rice being properly cooked. And because even when Katara's annoying as hell she's a good sister. Her doing the rice might in fact be a wordless apology for bringing up the two opportunities Zuko passed on to kill Sokka after his stupid Fire Nation ship rammed directly into their village. Which brings Sokka to the thought-- "Three times," Sokka blurts out.

"What?" Katara says.

"It wasn't two times. It was three times. Just-- you're right." Sokka flips an eggplant slice and scrapes at the vegetable chip coating on the bottom of the pan, not looking at her. "Zuko could have killed me that day. I was trying like hell to kill him."

"He was an invader," Katara says reasonably. "So of course you were. "

Sokka glances at Zuko and finds his stare returned. "My point is-- I was attacking to kill, so he had plenty of reason to kill me, but he didn't, he just knocked me down. The soldier who killed Mom had a lot less reason to." Katara's eyes fill with tears when he brings up Mom, but Sokka presses on. Sokka looks at Aang, who's got an odd expression on his face. "And once you agreed to go with him, and he agreed to leave the village alone, he kept his word. A lot of Fire Nation military wouldn't have done that. He was a jerk, but he wasn't bloodthirsty." Zuko might have killed Sokka if Aang hadn't shown up, though. By that point, he'd hassled Zuko pretty hard. Boomerang obviously hurt despite the dumb-looking helmet. Sokka would let himself smile at the memory if Katara didn't look so wounded.

Katara's eyes are wet and her face says sadness, but anger is what shakes her voice. "Why are you defending him?"

"Katara," Aang says plaintively.

Sokka sighs, because now he's done it. "I'm not," Sokka says, turning back to the hot pan, evaluating and flipping another slice of eggplant and the nugget of vegetable chip crumbs beside it. "I'm just... thinking."

"Maybe try thinking some thoughts that aren't disloyal," Katara says tersely.

 _Disloyal to whom? Mom is dead,_ Sokka thinks but does not say. This isn't that nasty an argument, at least not yet. "Disloyal to whom exactly?"

"To all of us!" Katara bursts out. "He and his sister almost killed Aang in the catacombs, and yesterday his asssassin nearly brought the whole pagoda down! You were there, you felt the ground shake! He almost killed all of us!"

"Yeah, maybe he hired Combustion Man, but we also all saw him try to stop him," Sokka counters. "Don't tell me he staged that, I could tell when we went to get him that he didn't. If you were paying any attention at all you could tell he was crushed by the idea."

" _Why_? Why are you taking his side?"

"The only side here," Sokka says with his best long-suffering patience, "is a bunch of people who want to defeat the Fire Lord. That's the side I'm on. As far as I can tell, that's the side he's on too."

Katara sounds bewildered even as she berates him. "We don't know that!"

"Yeah, Toph knows that," Sokka says.

"You've been nice to him all day while he's been sucking up to you," Katara says heatedly.

This recrimination comes so far out of left field, Sokka laughs. "Was I nicest when I was making fun of his girly comb, or laughing because he wants to be a tea servant, or shoving sea slug in his nostrils?"

"You mean server, not servant," Toph corrects, cocking her head.

"No actually I did mean servant," Sokka says to her, but Katara speaks over him, and loudly.

"You're acting like you're friends!" Katara's a few decibels away from shouting. "He is not our friend!"

"No, please, I want to know when I was too nice," Sokka says. "Apparently treating him like a person and not something I stepped in is 'too nice.' I forgot I was really supposed to be torturing him with hot pokers this whole time."

"Hot pokers probably wouldn't do much," Toph says, but she says it quietly. "Really pointy icicles maybe?"

"Well, forgive me for still being angry he tried to have us killed and almost succeeded. Oh wait, that was the Zuko from three weeks ago that sent an assassin after us, so I guess I'm not allowed to be mad about that since he's been on our side for at least three days now," Katara says, rich with sarcasm, sounding ready to either flounce off or plant her hands on Sokka's chest and shove him backwards like she used to when they were kids. "I see it's already no use talking to you about this."

"Hey, at least I'm being open-minded," Sokka says sharply. "And you started it." Not the most mature response, maybe, but it's what jumps first to his lips. Sokka turns his back on Katara, refocusing on what he's cooking before he burns their dinner.

"I should never have agreed to this stupid plan," Katara snaps back.

Aang hovers anxiously, because he's learned from experience not to get involved when Sokka and Katara fight, and Toph says nothing more either, and the Team Avatar newbies follow their lead. Having defended himself, Sokka lets the topic drop.

A suffocating silence descends, broken only by Sokka quietly conversing with Teo and vice versa, until dinner's ready. In the end, Sokka and Teo wrestle the main dish together pretty well, if Sokka does say so himself, though eggplant is slightly bitter in flavor and Sokka would not describe the end texture as meatlike. But the fried spicy vegetable chip breadcrumbs save the dish even if they don't stick to the eggplant, and he and Teo share a celebratory chef high-five, made slightly muted and low-key by the strained atmosphere of the group.

"We should eat the fruit tart before it spoils," Sokka says after everyone is served. "All in favor?"

Six hands go up-- Katara's probably not talking to him and Zuko's bound at the wrists-- and this suggestion brings enthusiasm and conversation back to the evening, so after they finish the slices of tarragon-fried eggplant, rice, and small spicy vegetable chip crumb-balls, Sokka retrieves the tart and delicately carves it into eight slices. They don't have a lot of opportunity or call to consume fancy desserts, and the cream-filled tart goes over like a vibrant fruity rainbow. The honey has preserved the fruit nicely, the crust has held up well, sweet and firm and just a little crumbly, and the cream filling tastes better than anything Sokka can remember polishing off since Ba Sing Se. He could happily eat a dozen more slices. Alas, when it's gone it's gone.

Teo forsakes the chopsticks and hand-feeds Zuko his eighth of the tart, and since he's not using the chopsticks Teo eats his own portion while simultaneously feeding Zuko. If either of them is the least bit embarrassed or weird-feeling about Zuko's lips closing around Teo's fingers, they keep it to themselves, like it's no more than an ordinary transaction. It's one of the strangest things Sokka's ever seen, universally beloved Teo from the Northern Air Temple hand-feeding Prince Subdued Angryjerk a slice of fruit tart, piece by crumbly piece like he's a particularly well-behaved pet. Or again, like newlyweds.

Well, whatever, it's a weird world.

Despite himself, Sokka watches Zuko for a few moments and realizes he's looking at Zuko-- evaluating his expressions, enjoying his appearance, studying him-- in a way remarkably similar to how Sokka'd look at a pretty girl. Except maybe less discreetly, because he's self-conscious about politeness and not making girls uncomfortable. Zuko, not so much. Sokka quickly averts his eyes, because yikes. And also _what the fuck_. Sokka's been thinking for a while he might not be interested solely in girls, but this is Zuko for crying out loud. Probably it's just that Sokka missed his morning jerkoff. The morning was hurried, what with their prisoner-capture expedition.

"Hey," Haru says as they're finishing the fruit tart, disrupting Sokka's thoughts. "We were going to move some of the better mattresses over here."

A small chorus of "Oh yeahs" and "I forgots" ensue, and the rest of the evening is unexpectedly lively and rushed. Before the sun sets, Aang, Haru, Toph, Sokka and The Duke leave Zuko, Katara and Teo to go retrieve better mattresses from the other inverted Air Temple pagodas. All the pallets in the Air Temple decayed to some extent over the past hundred years, and all have benefitted from being slit open and repacked with fresh grass, but some exterior casings are far less moth-eaten than others, just as some of the inverted pagodas are more dilapidated than other, mysteriously more intact surviving structures. Dark was already falling last night by the time they selected and settled into Second Choice Pagoda, and so they didn't have a chance to relocate the mattresses they put effort into.

With Appa they retrieve the mattresses they already restuffed, and Katara directs them to line the pallets up just inside the large open room off the terrace for those of them taking watch shifts, so they'll be nearby and won't have to either leave Zuko alone to visit each other's rooms, or shout each other awake and thereby wake up everyone else. Personally Sokka's not thrilled with the plan, because he likes the quiet and privacy of his bedroom on the far side of Second Choice Pagoda, but no one asks his opinion.

"Are we not giving Zuko something to sleep on?" Teo asks, subtly disapproving when Haru and Sokka don't haul any of the mattresses, decent or less so, over to the fountain area.

"No," Katara says flatly, and Teo says no more. Sokka doesn't speak up either, not particularly wanting to fight with Katara again so soon. Zuko's comfort or lack thereof is not worth another acrimonious bickering session. Sokka glances at Aang, but Aang's distracted. Aang thinks nothing of sleeping on stone or hard cold ground, anyway, so it's not likely to cross his mind that the night might pass uncomfortably for Zuko. Their prisoner is really kind of an afterthought.

Maybe Team Avatar isn't cut out for keeping a prisoner.

Sokka flips the schedule parchment to the clean side and revises the watch duty chart to include Teo. Sokka starts to put Teo down for the shift after Katara's, but then it occurs to him that Teo might prefer his shift sandwiched between two guys, since Teo needs up close and personal aid to get from mattress to barrow-chair and back.

Randomly thinking the phrase 'sandwiched between two guys' in this unrelated context is enough for Sokka's dick to twinge, which tells him it's a bad idea to have this night watch business disrupting his personal time. Before he settles down for the night in the communal area under the pagoda overhang, Sokka heads to his bedroom, ostensibly to grab his blanket. Sokka closes the heavy door all the way, so if anyone bothers him it's on them. The main reason Sokka chose the room he did is that it's one of the few rooms in Second Choice Pagoda without any manner of window or skylight.

Sokka lies on his crummy, slightly moldy pallet, spread with the blanket, and pushes his pants and loincloth down, shimmying a little to get them over his hips. Sliding a hand down his stomach and over his half-hard dick, he closes his eyes and thinks of the swell of Suki's breasts beneath the green of her dress, the feel of her warm lips under his, her soft skin. He thinks of the way she threw him in the air and slammed him on the floor when they sparred, which was both physically and emotionally bruising at the time but in retrospect was kind of hot. Sokka remembers how she smiled after the two of the other Kyoshi warriors finished applying his heavy makeup and the playful slap she landed on his crossdressing skirted butt one of the many times she flipped him down. Sokka's cheeks heated ferociously at that single spank, the first time a girl ever touched him like that, but again, hot in hindsight. Suki probably has no idea, but the sexual fantasies she left him with have made him realize a touch of embarrassment or even straight-up humiliation can be arousing. Sokka has a rough mental impression of the startled expression she made when he finally, _finally_ disarmed her, and overwhelming her defenses was hot too. He pictures her gorgeous face as best he can remember it, both with and without the makeup. Sokka wants to do everything with her. Everything. He tries not to think about the fact that she's in a Fire Nation prison maybe still holding out hope that he'll rescue her, which he obviously hasn't. Those thoughts don't lead anywhere good. Sokka grips his dick and strokes himself fast and hard, filling his mind and thrusting up a little into his pumping hand. Finding pleasure is quick, the matter of a couple of minutes. Necessity and little enough privacy usually force Sokka to be speedy about reaching the finish line.

After all day without it, the release is a relief. Sokka catches his come in his hand and lies still and spent and relaxing for a minute. He can easily fall asleep like this, but he needs to get in motion before someone comes looking for him or needs him for something. Sokka reaches over and wipes his hand on a leaf from his private bedside stash. At last he fixes his pants and departs his room. Sokka drops the used leaf off the side of Second Choice Pagoda, and passing by the fountain he quickly rinses his hand and wipes it off on the hip of his pants before heading to the conjoint line of mattresses.

In the end, Katara starts off the watches that night, followed by Aang, Teo, Sokka and Toph. _Your funeral,_ Sokka thinks automatically, looking at Teo, but his instincts tell him Zuko won't hurt Teo or act up at all.

*

Sure enough, the night passes peacefully, and Teo lives to pat Sokka awake in the dark hours. Teo's hand feels cool atop his. "Sokka, wake up."

"Yeah," he says, waking up fast and sitting up. The night is lit by one of their slim torches on the ground a few feet away, but further outside its flickering diameter, the night is pitch black. Sokka's dick is hard, although the dream he was having was nebulous and is fading like so much midnight mist. Still he's aroused. In the light of the fire thirty feet away, he can see Zuko looking at him through the darkness across the terrace. Zuko appears to be leaning against the fountain again, rather than sitting on what Sokka's begun to think of as The Zuko Pillar.

The others are all asleep, their breathing characteristically peaceful and deep. Sokka refocuses on Teo, who's sitting calmly and waiting on him. Sokka takes another second, getting his bearings, then gets up.

Teo has specially designed equipment to help him be independent with most of his bodily needs, but he can't walk and he can't fully undo the wraps that bind his atrophied legs. Teo's mentioned having some kind of custom-engineered ladder to allow him to maneuever up in his bed at home in the Northern Air Temple, but out here they're far from creature comforts or easements. Sokka and Teo have talked about rigging a similar but modified design in the room Teo and Haru have been sharing, but they haven't gotten around to it yet. None of them are sure how long they're going to stay at the Western Air Temple. With Aang still sullenly unwilling to make any kind of plan to fight the Fire Lord, everything's up in the air. In the meantime, learning how to help take care of Teo has been an eye-opening experience.

"You ready?" Sokka asks, and Teo nods, so Sokka picks him up, carefully preventing his groin from poking Teo as he moves his friend. Sokka sits him on his bed, supporting Teo's back to keep him upright. Teo unwinds his leg wrappings to the knee, and Sokka gently lowers Teo flat, then gets the wrappings the rest of the way off. Sokka sets the long strips of cloth on the stone floor beside the mattress, then pulls the blanket over Teo.

"Thanks," Teo says. "Goodnight, Sokka."

"Night Teo," Sokka says, and he snags the torch from the aperture designed to hold it before he makes his way over to the fountain. "I need the bathroom," he announces. "You?"

Zuko shrugs, then nods and struggles to his feet. Maybe Zuko's been sitting in one position too long, or maybe he's tired, because he's lost the fluid grace he demonstrated earlier in the day.

"Okay, come on," Sokka says, and then he corrects himself. "Or-- go ahead." Zuko squares his shoulders and begins walking towards the garden, and Sokka follows him.

The erection Sokka's ignoring nags at him. "The worst part of keeping you prisoner is having no privacy," Sokka grouses quietly after they pass the row of occupied mattresses, each spaced only about three feet apart.

Zuko glances back at him, his single eyebrow rising. "Yeah, you heard me," Sokka says. Zuko faces front and keeps walking. When they get to the latrine, Zuko stops and looks at him, and Sokka slips between the trees first. His hard-on has subsided enough to piss, and for a second he considers jerking off when he's done, but it's too uncomfortable a thought with Zuko right there waiting for him and the quiet of night all around them. Zuko would definitely hear him, and he'd come out flushed and it's not like Zuko wouldn't know exactly what he was doing. Sokka could try to square it with a joke, but the vibe would probably still be awkward. When Sokka finishes taking a leak, he goes out and unties Zuko's hands, then waits for Zuko in turn.

Zuko emerges every bit as quickly as Sokka did, stretching his arms. Sokka lets Zuko continue to stretch without rushing him, and although Zuko can't say anything while gagged, Zuko meets Sokka's eyes sort of appreciatively. After another thirty seconds of rolling his shoulders and flexing his arms this way and that, Zuko turns his back to Sokka and places his hands behind his back again. Sokka reties Zuko's wrists, and they walk soundlessly back to the terrace. Out of an abundance of caution, Sokka still tracks him several steps behind. Zuko pauses for a moment in the center of the courtyard, as though waiting to see if he'll be given directions, before going over to the fountain and sitting back down against it. Sokka jams the torch down into the narrow hollow Toph fashioned to hold it. 

"This is boring," Sokka says after about thirty seconds. "I feel acute guard ennui setting in."

Zuko looks at him silently.

"Okay, fine," Sokka says, and he walks behind Zuko and unties the gag.

"Let's talk, prisoner." Sokka says it lightly so Zuko will know he's kidding. "So I can stay awake."

Zuko licks his lips. He looks tired. "What do you want to talk about?"

Sokka automatically answers in jest, because he hasn't really thought that far ahead. "The price of tea in Ba Sing Se? You'd know all about that, I bet." Sokka taps his fingers against the stone beneath his hands and considers actual topics, though all the normal get-to-know-you questions seem sort of silly in the context of Zuko. "Uh, favorite food? Hobbies when you're not chasing us across the world? What you want your epitaph to read?"

Zuko stares at him. "That was a joke," Sokka assures him. "Actually, you know what? I'm curious about when and why you decided capturing Aang was no longer the order of the day, and killing him would be just as good."

"Oh. Well." Zuko lowers his eyes and is silent for a short time, like he's filing through past events. "When I went home after Ba Sing Se fell, my sister told the Fire Lord I killed the Avatar. But I was pretty sure he was alive."

"So you set out to get him not-alive and make that true." Sokka says this as nonjudgementally as possible, because if Zuko clams up it's going to be a dull couple of hours.

"The Fire Lord was satisfied by the news that the Avatar was dead," Zuko says. "The next Avatar would be Water Tribe, but they'd be a baby, and no one would be able to stop the Fire Nation before Sozin's Comet."

Sokka stretches his legs out. "Why do you call him by his title like he's not your dad?"

"My father is not the kind of person you call 'dad.'" Zuko looks away. "Above all you show the Fire Lord respect," Zuko adds, stiff and emphatic. 

There's something unsettlingly severe about the way he says this last part that gives Sokka pause. "I can show my dad respect and still call him 'dad,' it's not a bad word."

"Well, he's..." Zuko starts, and trails off.

"He's what?"

Zuko looks flustered, running his sharp little teeth tightly over his chapped lips. "Nothing. I -- nothing."

"Wait, your dad or mine? Were you going to say 'a peasant'?" Sokka asks suspiciously. "Cause okay, but he happens to be the chief of our tribe."

Zuko shakes his head rapidly, not so much like a simple no, more like a no plus shaking out confusion that's coiled like a hungry mink snake inside his head. "Just-- whatever your father's like, he's not like my father."

"Will you tell me about him?" Sokka asks after a moment.

Tension slips into the line of Zuko's shoulders, and a muscle stands out in his neck like he's experiencing a fight-or-flight reaction while he's sitting there tied up. Zuko looks so tense, if Team Avatar had any supply of alcohol, Sokka would offer him some. Maybe even a drop or two of cactus juice. "I guess," Zuko says slowly. "If there's something in particular you want to know?"

"No, just curious," Sokka admits. "What's he like?"

"He's awful," Zuko says with harsh vehemence, as though his dad generally sucking is not obvious already. "He's a terrible person."

"Well, duh, that I got," Sokka says, but not meanly. "I meant-- is he as bad a parent as he is a world leader?"

"He's the worst father in the history of fathers." Zuko grates the words out like he's talking through a swishing mouthful of bitter medicine, and though he doesn't sound self-pitying at all, the sour resentment in his voice makes Sokka want to change the subject. Poor choice of topic, his bad. The last thing he wants is to get Zuko agitated enough to get loud and wake up Katara, who will in turn be angry at Sokka for ungagging Prince Angrymouth.

Surprisingly, though, before Sokka can think of anything to say, Zuko moves on in the conversation. "Listen, I wanted to thank you for speaking for me before. At dinner."

"Yeah. No problem," Sokka says, and the aftermath of stilted silence that follows feels awkward.

"I was going to kill you though," Zuko says, quiet and terse, as if he feels a need to confess the truth. "That day. I was kind of-- gearing myself up to do it when the Avatar showed. I never killed anyone before, but you were this close to being the first."

"Yeah, I actually could tell, believe it or not." Sokka pauses, and Zuko says nothing for a few moments. "But you didn't, and then Aang rode in on that penguin and knocked you ass-up," Sokka says wistfully.

Zuko might be reddening, it's hard to tell in the light of the fire at this distance. "In retrospect, I deserved that."

"Well, you're paying for it now," Sokka says dryly. "Have you slept at all?"

"No. I tried earlier, when Katara was watching me, but I can't sleep tied up like this. At least, not yet." Zuko chews his lip. "If I get tired enough I'm sure I'll pass out. Most soldiers learn to sleep sitting up. I've been lucky I haven't had to until now."

Despite his desire to keep things lively, Sokka feels sorry for Zuko again, and after a few minutes of conversation he's feeling awake enough to stay that way. More or less. "Maybe you should try to sleep then," Sokka suggests.

"I guess," Zuko says.

Sokka stands up, planning to get a drink of water. "Cause you're safe with me," Sokka continues. Trying to sleep while tied up has to suck, but Sokka'd also bet Zuko can't feel super comfortable closing his eyes with Katara staring daggers at him. In Zuko's place, Sokka's sure he wouldn't be able to relax enough to rest.

Unfortunately, his joke has the opposite effect of putting Zuko at ease. Zuko looks up at him with an undercurrent of apprehension like Sokka's said something ominous, which makes Sokka rethink what just came out of his mouth. Maybe 'you're safe with me' is a bad thing to say to someone he has tied up and is accidentally looming over. Sokka might not have magic water on his side or esoteric fire bursting out of his hands, but he's taken a life, which is a claim none of his friends can make. Sokka's a blooded warrior, Zuko's hands are bound, Zuko's done more than enough over the past year for Sokka to hate him, and Zuko's desperate to be accepted by them. Of course Zuko's wary of him in this situation, of what he could do. Sokka takes a step back to minimize any threatening vibes he was accidentally putting out. "I just meant... I'm guessing you can't be that comfortable trying to sleep with Katara staring at you."

"Oh," Zuko says, marginally loosening up. "Yeah. No, I'm not."

"Sweet dreams," Sokka adds to finish defusing what suddenly became a weird moment. It's kind of a girly thing to say, but the words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

Zuko nods once and closes his eyes.

And then it's a dull couple of hours after all. The minutes elapse slowly, and Sokka has to get up a few times and walk or face falling back asleep where he's sitting, because unlike Zuko, Sokka can absolutely sleep sitting up. Sokka's aware of Zuko's eyes on him sometimes, but Sokka walks up and down the terrace quietly and doesn't speak, giving Zuko a good-faith chance to go to sleep. Watching Sokka pace around has to be almost as good as counting sheep, because it's boring as hell, but though he keeps his eyes closed a good part of the time, Zuko never falls asleep that Sokka can tell. 

When he finally deems it time Sokka stops and crouches down next to Zuko, who sits up, still completely awake and looking at Sokka with an attentive expression on his face. "I need to put this back on you, cause Toph won't be able to," Sokka tells him.

"Okay," Zuko says, hoarse as always after even a short period of silence, and he bows his head and submits as Sokka reties the rope around his mouth. 

Sokka rises and goes to nudge Toph, who loudly cracks her knuckles immediately upon waking. Sokka lies down as Toph goes over to Zuko, and then she pads halfway across the courtyard and hisses at him. "Snoozles!"

"What?" Sokka whispers back.

"Come untie his mouth so I can talk to him," Toph demands in a loud stage-whisper.

Sokka throws off his blanket and hauls himself back to his feet to fulfill her request. "Are you sure? You won't be able to change your mind." Sokka makes a face. "Cause if I can get back to sleep, don't you dare wake me up."

"If I want to shut him up I'll just fill his mouth with rocks," Toph says, and then, presumably in response to a change in Zuko's heart rate, she adds, "Jeez, I'm just kidding, Candles."

Getting the reference and piecing together the connection takes Sokka a second, but then he laughs aloud at the nickname with its implication that Zuko's lazy. Zuko doesn't visibly react. "Easy on the jokes, he's a serious guy," Sokka says, and he pats Zuko's shoulder as he stands up and sets the gag rope on the slab where Toph's sitting.

"Oh that's _really_ funny coming from you," Toph says. "How about this," Toph says to Zuko. "If I want you to shut up, I'll tell you to shut up and you'll do it."

"Okay," Zuko agrees immediately.

Sokka goes and lies back down on his bed, but he finds he can't sleep. He can hear Toph and Zuko talking quietly, but he can't make out the words.

Sokka thinks about the strangeness of having Zuko around. He thinks about Zuko kicking him off the gangplank of his stupid battleship, having an opening to kill him but not attempting to utilize it. He thinks about Zuko changing sides and Aang's most recent screaming freakout. He thinks about the deliriously good fruit tart they ate after dinner and about breakfast the next day, which will be in just a few short hours.

Eventually, he falls asleep.


	3. Worst Vacation Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Same day post to make the relative boringness of chapter two better. <3 There are probably more typos and/or continuity mistakes than usual. I will find and fix them later.  
> 2\. Content warnings for medical care provided by someone behaving in a way that is cold and unkind to the sick person, a fairly extensive passage about the slaughter and butchering of an animal for food, one instance of vomiting and some discussion of same, and the most brief and glancing reference to wartime rape.  
> 3\. Also features sickfic elements of a gastrointestinal nature, soo maybe don't read this if you don't care for that. Mostly euphemistic and nothing near bad enough to justify the Gross tag, but still, heads-up.  
> 

Zuko's still there in the morning, looking a bit worse for wear, with a sunken, sleepless look and a dark circle under his good eye.

After yet another unexciting breakfast of plain rice, Toph, Teo, and The Duke are all sitting and lying around the courtyard terrace. Haru's washing the breakfast bowls in the fountain, and Sokka's trying to sharpen his space sword and keeps getting interrupted. Although Toph is technically the one on guard duty, as Sokka could've guessed Toph's pretty much useless at knots, and as there are lot of knots to be tied and untied and retied this morning, Sokka is standing in for her.

"I still say you shouldn't be letting him go to the bathroom by himself," The Duke tells Toph.

Toph, who's repeatedly justified her decision to let Zuko walk to the trees alone (with the unnerving explanations that she's with him even if she's not next to him, he can't do anything she won't know about, and if he deviates off course or tries anything, she can put him in a cool-looking rock cage from where she's sitting), ignores The Duke's latest complaint entirely. Toph acts like she's a scary badass, and to be fair she is one, but she's also a lot more tolerant than she pretends to be. 

Zuko's shuffling back to them after yet another urgent trip to the trees when he suddenly stops short and starts frantically trying to get his gag off. Zuko's golden eyes have gone wide and desperate, even the slitted one, and he looks wan as death, and when Sokka looks at him Zuko shakes his head frantically.

"Hey," Toph says, alarmed and sitting up straight. "He's panicking--"

After a shocked second, Sokka figures it out and springs into action, leaping up, dropping his sword and sprinting behind Zuko, knocking his warm hands away and undoing the knot. Zuko's hands hover six inches away from his head on either side, flailing a little with frantic impatience, as though Sokka doesn't comprehend the severity of the situation. At last the rope falls limp under Sokka's fingers and Zuko yanks it down as he dashes the twenty steps to the side of the terrace. For a split second Zuko looks like he's about to kill himself by leaping into the chasm below the Air Temple, but instead his hands slam into the low balustrade as his knees hit the stone, and he leans over the side and vomits.

Teo gasps in a breath watching Zuko run to the overlook, and Haru's eyes are wide too. Toph stands up, looking about half a second from an earthbending move, probably to stop Zuko from jumping off the terrace.

"How did you know he--" Teo doesn't seem to know how to finish his sentence as Sokka walks back. "How did you know?"

Sokka shrugs.

"That was kind of amazing," Haru says, holding a wet, forgotten bowl in his hands, and apparently not noticing the water he's dripping on his clothes.

It's not exactly a secret that Zuko's ill. Usually Sokka would bask in the admiration of his peers, but he doesn't feel like preening just now. Sokka's heart is pounding, because that was a disquietingly close call. Sokka doesn't like Zuko, or consider him as a friend the way Katara accused, but the idea of watching him choke to death on his own vomit is awful.

"That would have been so nasty," The Duke says. _It'd have been fatal._ Zuko finishes throwing up and takes off again for the cluster of trees in the nearby garden.

"He's really sick," Toph observes calmly.

Zuko will probably be a few minutes, so Sokka goes back to sharpening his sword and tries not to think about what almost just happened.

"Call Katara," Sokka tells Toph when he glances up and sees Zuko on his way back, because Katara chose a bedroom deep inside the pagoda, and Toph's yelling voice is better.

"Katara, get out here," Toph hollers.

In under a minute, Katara and Aang emerge from the pagoda proper onto the terrace. "What's up?" Katara calls, and as they come closer to the fountain, she looks at Zuko, who's plodding back from the trees. Zuko's untied, ungagged, sweaty, extra-pale and missing the brown and gold overtunic that pulls his goofy maroon outfit together. "What's wrong with you?" Katara asks.

Zuko slumps onto the ground and looks at Aang and Katara pleadingly. "Will you please leave me untied for a while?"

"No." Katara glares at him. "Why?"

"Indigestion," Teo conveys in his polite way.

"Because he's throwing up now, and he's needed the bathroom like four times in the last twenty minutes," Sokka clarifies without looking up from sword and whetstone. "Weak Fire Nation constitution," Sokka says, just because he's expected to make ribbing comments like that. He feels shaken, but the others don't seem to notice, which is good.

Toph shrugs. "I was sick for my first couple days with you guys. I mean, let's admit it, our food is a change of pace."

"I would have guessed it's the water," Haru says.

"A change of pace," Sokka repeats, drawing a deep breath. "I've never heard you say anything so tactful, Toph, that was lovely." Sokka nods appreciatively. "Teo's a great influence on you."

"If it were the water, we'd all be sick," Teo says to Haru.

Toph isn't done. "And that's at the best of times, when Sokka hasn't accidentally picked a bunch of poison berries that give everyone the most violent diarrhea imaginable, like explosive free-flowing butt waterfalls--"

Katara makes a disgusted noise at Toph's description.

"They looked and tasted exactly like elderberries! None of you noticed the difference either!" Sokka breathes out exasperatedly. "Look, I'm just tired of untying and retying him, that's all."

Toph refrains from calling him out on his fib. Toph can be more discreet than anyone gives her credit for, sometimes. Sokka looks at Katara but tries to send intangible gratitude vibes through the stone courtyard floor to Toph. "Help, please?"

"Come here Zuko," Katara says impatiently, sitting down in her usual spot. Sokka doesn't miss that Katara makes Zuko come to her, even though he was already sitting when she was still standing, and when Zuko's clearly in serious discomfort. Katara can be super mean sometimes, and she hates Zuko even more than Sokka realized. Not that Zuko didn't earn every ounce of her hostility.

"You look terrible," Aang says.

"I feel terrible." Zuko hauls himself to his feet and shuffles in front of Katara, then drops to the ground when she motions him down. "It was probably the water I stopped for along the way here."

"Lie down and pull your shirt up," Katara says, not particularly kindly, and Zuko follows these directions, stretching out at her feet. Zuko has a huge indigo bruise reaching from his flat six-pack all the way up to his chest. Teo gasps when he sees it.

"Wow," Haru says, sounding amazed.

Katara takes a half-gallon of water directly from the flow steadily pouring down into the fountain and bends it to Zuko's abdomen, bathing him with it.

"What happened to you?" Aang asks Zuko.

"I followed Toph trying to help her," Zuko says, keeping his eyes closed.

Toph chuckles. "Oh, is he banged up? I want to hear all about it."

"It looks like you almost crushed his ribcage in," Sokka describes, because the exaggeration will please Toph, and it's not even that much of an embellishment. "It's blue like the darkest part of the ocean and it's wide, like eleven inches of bruise diameter. Like, below waist up to chest, like he got squarely hit with a perfectly round tree trunk. Orrr I'm guessing the round flat top of a rock. But there's one particular spot on the upper left side that looks especially nasty and purple."

"The darkest parts of oceans aren't blue, they're black," Katara says.

"Eh, colors," Toph says. "Whatever. Size and relative intensity, that's all I needed to know."

Toph punches Sokka in the bicep, probably to thank him for verbally illustrating Zuko's bruise. Sokka gives her his usual soft grunt, to let her know he felt the blow but also that he's tough enough to take it. If he fails to make some audible acknowledgment the next hit will be twice as hard.

"Maybe tomorrow, Zuko can describe my new bruise to you," Sokka says, but his heart's not in the witticism. Sokka rubs his upper arm and watches Katara work on Zuko, feeling vicariously uncomfortable, because it must suck to be cared for intimately by someone who despises you. Katara's healed him and Aang and Toph this way too, at different times, but always compassionately, never so coldly, not even when she was furious with him for eating that puffer eel. Zuko looks feverish, but he's not so mentally out of it as to be unaware of her unkind treatment.

"I dumped the water that was in your flasks and was letting them dry, but we should probably try to clean them out or something," Sokka says.

"Probably," Zuko says without opening his eyes.

"Hey, so in a way, Katara was right, you did bring us something poisoned," Sokka jokes. Zuko opens his eyes without looking at Sokka, sighs, and closes his eyes again, looking as defeated as he did the day they captured him.

Sokka figures he's gotten enough licks in. "Luckily I inherited my dad's iron stomach," Sokka says, because he knows they'll all pounce on him for this claim, and Zuko could probably stand to feel less alone. (What has gotten _into_ him?) "I can eat anything, no trouble."

Getting called to account for this modest exaggeration takes about one second.

"Actually," Aang begins. "Remember when you ate those way-too-old komodo chicken leftovers?"

Toph laughs, lying back against the rock. "Then, oh, there was that toxic eel you fished up from that pond near Hu Xin. You were so sick. You ran out of loincloths and we ran out of leaves before Katara fixed you up."

"Alright, alright! Point taken, enough said," Sokka says, but the mood around the fountain has turned lighter, infused with levity. Sokka can afford some wisecracks at his own expense. "Let's be fair, I only had two loincloths at the time, and the only reason I got sick and you didn't was because the rest of you were too cowardly to eat that eel."

"Cowardly? I don't think so." Toph stamps her foot for emphasis, and even with her lying in a reclining position, rock dust rains down around the edges of the terrace. "We didn't eat it because it tasted wrong and those of us with functioning taste buds spat it out."

"Hey, my taste buds are fine," Sokka says. "My taste buds are tough and manly and could take that eel."

"Your insides are less manly, I guess," Toph says.

"Manly enough to take the abuse," Sokka says, entertained in a way he only can be by banter with Toph. "The fishermen we ran into later said people who eat puffer eel go delirious and die every time."

"The delirium got you, even if you didn't die," Toph says.

"I was fine," Sokka drawls, drawing out the last syllable, and only then does he notice Katara's dark expression.

"That isn't funny at all, I thought you were going to die," Katara says flatly of their conversation, ruining their lathery nostalgic fun with the cold rinse of reality. Katara finishes with Zuko and with a wave of her hand, sends the used water sailing off the terrace into the chasm below the Air Temple.

"Too soon, I guess," Sokka whispers to Toph, his tone faux-confidential and his volume not all that low.

"Thank you," Zuko says to Katara, putting a hand over the lower part of his stomach, but Katara snubs him, rising without answering.

"Katara," Sokka says reproachfully, because Zuko's enormous Toph-bestowed torso bruise has to hurt something awful, and Katara's just ignored it. "His rock smash? Really, at least check for a broken sternum or whatever."

Katara rolls her eyes and sits back down, bending more water from the fountain and applying it to Zuko's torso. Katara heals the bruise for just a few moments before she discards this water too and stands.

"Tie him back up," Katara calls over her shoulder. "And don't leave the gag off this time."

"Not right now," Sokka says to the last part.

Katara spins on her heel and her hands land on her hips. "Why not now?"

Sokka sighs inwardly. "We can't have him gagged while he's puking, if he throws up again he could choke to death." Sokka sees Zuko's face tilt towards him in his peripheral vision, but Sokka's too busy staring his sister down to look back.

"And what a loss that would be," Katara says under her breath.

"Katara!" Aang says, sounding surprised and disappointed.

"Ugh, give me a break! I healed him, he'll be fine now," Katara says crossly.

Sokka's aware how lucky he is that he got Zuko's gag undone before Zuko threw up the first time. For the last fifteen minutes Sokka's been feeling a lingering, discomfiting anxiety about what would have happened had he not realized what was happening or taken quick action. The thought of Zuko choking on his own vomit out of nowhere is disturbing enough, but-- "Katara, if we put the gag back on him and he throws up again, that's basically going to be murder," Sokka says. "I know you bent water out of Aang's lungs that one time, but unless you're one hundred percent confident you could do that with vomit, we're not gagging him." Sokka lets a smidgen of judgy, combative heat sneak into his voice. "Even if you're sure you could, that's kind of awful."

Katara purses her lips but seems to acknowledge his point. "Fine," Katara says, and she turns and heads back to her room. Looking distressed, Aang trails after her, as if uncertain how the last ten minutes have affected her mood.

Sokka returns his attention to his triad of sword, oil rag, and whetstone. He's planning to rebind Zuko's wrists, but the guy's eyes are closed and he looks absolutely wrecked, so Sokka decides to let him be for a while. It's not like Sokka or Toph have anywhere to be.

"Well, let's retie him at least," The Duke says.

"Not right now," Sokka tells The Duke, his voice sharp, and with a reluctant look, The Duke lets it go.

Sokka's aware for a few minutes of Zuko's eyes on him, but then Zuko falls asleep on the stone, his face tilted to the side, his arms by his sides, his shirt still up around his nipples. The bruise over his chest now looks less blue and more brown, the healing accelerated. Not like anyone's going to touch him to pull his shirt down. Sokka figures Zuko will fix it at lunch or next time he goes over to the trees, but when Haru announces lunch, Zuko's still sleeping.

"Should we wake him up for food?" Sokka asks.

"He didn't sleep last night," Toph says, getting up to head to the firepit to eat, and Sokka follows her.

"He didn't sleep on my watch shift either," Teo says, sympathy clear in his voice as he looks down at Zuko sleeping. Teo rolls forward and picks up the brown and gold overtunic from where it lies crumpled on the stone edge of the fountain. "Toph," Teo says, "stick this under his head."

"Ugh, you're such a softie," Toph says, but she snags the garment from Teo, folds it up and pushes it at Zuko's head. Zuko turns his face onto the folds of it like he's unconsciously seeking the touch of softness, apparently sleeping through the adjustment, or pretending to. Then the rest of them walk over to the fire pit for lunch.

"I heard somewhere firebenders can't sleep when the sun's up," The Duke says as Haru hands him a bowl. Lunch is rice with fresh-sliced tomatoes from the side of Second Choice Pagoda, because they're saving Zuko's assortment of foods to eat with dinners. "Do you think he's faking?"

"He's asleep," Toph says with complete confidence.

"They can sleep anytime, it's just not as restful for them during the day," Teo tells The Duke.

Sokka blinks at him, because of all of them, Teo has the least experience with citizens of the Fire Nation. "How do you know?"

Teo jerks a thumb in the direction of the fountain, where Zuko remains flat, horizontal and motionless. "Zuko told me last night."

"Huh," Sokka says.

"He was probably lying," The Duke says.

Toph sighs loudly.

But as the afternoon wears on, Sokka suspects Zuko wakes up at least once but keeps still and quiet to avoid being tied up and gagged again. Then he genuinely falls back asleep. Sokka can tell because of the way Zuko's breathing evens out, then accelerates by turns as though he's having bad dreams, and because he mumbles incoherently, tosses around and changes positions frequently when he's unconscious. Stone is uncomfortable to rest on at the best of times. When Zuko's pretending to sleep, he's way too still. At least, that's Sokka's best guess.

Only one word of Zuko's garbled verbalizations is intelligible: _Father_. Zuko says it only once, and everything else is half-formed gibberish. Later on, during another dream cycle, the guy lets out a couple of honest-to-spirits whimpers, which make him sound like a scared little kid.

Sokka sighs, because Teo's turning them all as squishy-hearted as he is, but after lunch Sokka goes over to their packs and supplies, turns up Zuko's leather knapsack, and digs through until he finds Zuko's cloak, rumpled from being balled up in a knapsack for a day. Sokka pulls it out and is mildly stricken as he holds it up, shakes it out and examines it. The burgundy cloak, so austere-looking from a distance, up close is made of a luxurious oiled silk and lined with a layer of velvet beneath for warmth and a stately hang. The generously sized hood is reinforced and has little buttons that fasten at the shoulders to keep the hood up in even a strong wind. The stitching is fine and the seams cunningly hidden, and the garment weighs heavy in his hands. By far the cloak is the single nicest piece of apparel he's ever touched. Sokka can't even mentally make fun of it. The understated quality of the cloak is a stark reminder of who Zuko is and where he's from. The next thing Sokka realizes is-- the cloak _smells_ like Zuko. Not in a bad way, not at all, but it's definitely a recognizably Fire Nation-y aroma, foreign and exotic. Sokka brings the cloth to his face and inhales once, and the scent instantly summons memories of a few months prior, breathing Fire Nation air sweetened with incense, wearing stolen Fire Nation clothes, eating heavily spiced fire Nation food, walking outdoors among people who smelled like this same smell. Sokka hastily folds the cloak in half over his arm and heads back into the fresh air.

Returning to the fountain, Sokka spreads the cloak out over Zuko in an approximation of the way Zuko had it when they found him lying down in his camp. Teo favors Sokka with a warm, approbative smile, like he's done something really good.

Aang officially takes over the task of watching Zuko, but Toph sticks around and so does Sokka. Aang hangs out for about an hour, visibly getting more and more antsy. Meanwhile the weight of the cloak seems to settle Zuko down some, lessening the frequency of his periodic incoherent muttering. With Zuko more peaceful and thus even more boring, Aang has that much less to keep him occupied, until finally Sokka takes a deep breath. "Aang, just go, I'll watch him."

Aang sits up, instantly excited and ready to rocket away. The kid cannot sit still when he gets in one of his moods, and right now he obviously wants to be anywhere doing anything besides watching Zuko. "Really?" Aang asks him, like he can't believe his good luck.

"Yeah, go ahead," Sokka affirms. Air Nomads probably aren't cut out to be guards, probably for the same reason the Western Air Temple has no suitable place to use as a jail.

"Thanks!" Aang says enthusiastically, the first real sign of life Sokka's seen from him this afternoon, and he scampers away in the direction of Katara's room.

Zuko wakes up in the late afternoon, blinking and stretching, tangled in his cloak. Zuko grasps a fistful of the burgundy fabric, holds it away from his body and looks down at his hand like he needs to confirm for himself what he's holding. Zuko sits up and the cloak falls to his lap, and his hand gropes up, finally finds the lighter hem of his shirt, and pulls it down. The next thing he does is bury a hand in his artlessly disheveled hair, which looks unfairly good for bedhead. Zuko seems disoriented, and his waking-up process is vaguely interesting to watch.

Since Zuko missed lunch, Sokka leaves him with Toph for a few minutes and unpacks two of the rice cakes for him, because those seem like they'll be easiest on a recently-troubled stomach, and Sokka lets Zuko feed himself because Teo's taken off with Haru and damned if Sokka's doing it.

"Thanks," Zuko says when Sokka hands him the rice cakes, quickly checking out Sokka's face.

"No problem," Sokka says easily. Zuko eats with marked slowness, nibbling on the first rice cake.

Katara and Aang come out for water, and Toph and The Duke periodically come and go, wandering on and off of the terrace. The Duke's obviously bothered by having a loose firebender around, and Katara shoots them a dirty look, but no one questions Sokka letting Zuko eat, or what he's eating, or that he's untied. Sokka gets the sense that Katara's giving him the cold shoulder.

"Where did you stop for water?" Sokka asks when it's just him and Toph and Zuko again.

"A stream," Zuko says. "On an uninhabited island before we hit ocean."

"Can you boil a body of water before you fill your flask from it?"

A pair of outraged lines appear in Zuko's forehead between his eyebrows. The guy's gonna have hideous wrinkles by the time he's twenty-five, assuming any of them live to be that old. "And kill all the fish?"

Oh. Right. The fish. "I guess?"

Zuko frowns at him. "And destroy the whole ecosystem? What kind of person do you think I am?"

"Not one who thinks a lot about ecosystems," Sokka quips, and Zuko gives him an unhappy look. "You could eat the boiled fish," Sokka suggests, but Zuko doesn't seem to find this funny either. Does anyone from the Fire Nation have a sense of humor? "You're right, they'd be tasteless cooked without salt. I just feel like you're wasting your firebender talents."

Zuko sighs, and the irritation passes from his face. "I should have boiled the water in my flask, but I was thirsty," Zuko admits, and he looks away. "It was a fast-moving brook, so I figured it was okay. I was in a hurry. It was careless. If you put some water in the flasks, I can sterilize them."

An oil lamp flares up over Sokka's head. "Is that why Fire Nation military flasks are metal? So you can boil your water?" Sokka asks, and Zuko nods. Sokka leans towards him. "Zuko, when you were about to puke, why didn't you burn the gag off?"

Zuko takes another bite of the rice cake, nestles it somewhere in his cheek to enable him to talk cleanly, and dares a glance back up at Sokka. "I didn't want to give you a reason not to trust me," Zuko says, which is pretty much what Sokka expected to hear.

"You were already tearing at it," Sokka points out. "You could've died. It would've been faster to burn it off."

"It didn't even cross my mind that..." Zuko's face twists, and he seems unable to complete the thought, only waving fractionally with the half-eaten rice cake in his hand.

"That you would choke? Yeah, that's what happens when a gagged prisoner throws up," Sokka says bluntly. "The mouth's blocked, so the vomit fills up the sinus cavities and there's nowhere else for it to go but back down. Usually while more's coming up. Vomit gets aspirated and you drown from it. In it."

Zuko swallows. He looks faintly green, like he could have lived without this valuable information. "I just thought-- it happened so fast, I wasn't thinking anything that complex." Zuko takes a small bite, chews slowly, and swallows again. "So... did you-- have you...?" Zuko tries again. "You said I was your first prisoner-- so how did you know that?"

"My dad." Sokka hears the nostalgia in his own voice, and for a moment he feels both heartsick and homesick, missing his home, missing his dad. "He's an expert at lots of stuff but he knows a little about everything. He used to teach me something every day, well every night actually. Usually about the war, or nature, or survival, or something like that."

"That's nice," Zuko says wistfully, sounding like he means it.

"Yeah, it is," Sokka agrees.

"Did he have someone die in custody?" Zuko asks, this time breaking off a piece of the rice cake with his fingers almost like he's fidgeting with it, and putting it in his mouth instead of biting or nibbling.

"No idea," Sokka tells him.

The conversation ends there. Zuko continues eating slowly. When he's finally done Sokka escorts him to the tree-latrine, then returns him to the fountain and ties him back up.

"Why is the charspitter still not gagged?" The Duke asks when he comes back over and sits down. The question's obviously been on his mind the past few times he's patrolled over this way.

"Because I'm a cautious guy and he's having his worst vacation ever," Sokka says. "And hey, can we maybe not call him that? We might have a bad history with him, but Toph says he came here to help us."

"It's what he is," The Duke says matter-of-factly. "Besides, you call him Prince Angryjerk."

"That's... huh. Yeah." Sokka can't exactly deny it. "Well, I'm going to stop," he says finally. "Given what Toph's said."

"Call him whatever, it doesn't change what he is," The Duke states, a forever condemnation if Sokka's ever heard one, and The Duke gazes at Zuko with overt contempt.

Sokka looks at The Duke kind of helplessly, because he has no idea how to disarm this type of bias, or whether he even owes it to Zuko to bother trying. Or maybe he owes an effort not to Zuko or the people of the Fire Nation (because honestly, fuck the Fire Nation) but to The Duke.

Maybe he'll just start setting a good example.

*

When dinnertime rolls around, Sokka unties both Zuko's wrists and his gag before leading him over to the firepit. Zuko looks at him wide-eyed, and even his damaged eye takes on a rounder shape. 

"Are you sure?" Zuko whispers, and Sokka nods at him.

They walk over to the firepit together. Sokka sits and Zuko hovers uncertainly, and Sokka nudges him mid-calf and gestures for Zuko to sit next to him. Zuko sits abruptly.

Katara takes about five seconds to notice what he's done. Katara hands Sokka a bowl and Sokka hands it off to Zuko, then turns back to her expectantly. "What are you doing?" Katara demands, outraged. "Where's his rope?!"

"For the love of--" Sokka breaks off impatiently. "Look, he managed to eat a rice cake this afternoon without going crazy and setting everything on fire. From now on Zuko feeds himself, okay? Let's not be ridiculous about this."

Sokka says it more hotly than he means to, and with adequate force that no one gainsays him. For a few seconds there's total silence.

"I think that'll be okay," Aang says, though not without a nervous look at Katara like he thinks she might explode. 

Katara bangs the pots, spoon and bowls around a bit more than she needs to, and when she passes Sokka a second bowl she glares at him like he's a traitor, but Sokka ignores her. Dinner is rice and fresh orange wedges with divied-up portions of the glazed ash banana rolls. The rolls are good, but Sokka inwardly laments the fact that all their jerky is gone and they haven't seen meat in days. So far Sokka's had no luck fishing up anything from the lake beneath the Western Air Temple, possibly because the fish are all too small, more likely because he's had nothing enticing to use for bait, but he's going to try again at the earliest opportunity. The meatlessness of all their meals lately bothers him far more than Katara's bad temper.

*

That night Teo wakes Sokka up with a hand on his shoulder. Sokka stirs and startles when he sees narrow mismatched eyes, an unearthly yellow in daylight, just two feet away and apparently staring at him as he sleeps. Creepy, it's so so creepy. Sokka bolts upright on the mattress. Zuko's sitting awake on the edge of Teo's pallet, while Teo's in his barrow-chair between the beds. Sokka conveniently forgets he watched Zuko sleep for hours today, until his brain wakes up enough to remind him.

"Uh," is all Sokka can think to say as Zuko stands up and shuffles a few steps off.

"I wanted him to lie down for a while someplace soft," Teo explains. "He still couldn't sleep, though. He can't sleep like this."

"That sucks," Sokka says, still kind of messed-up from his own fragmented measure of sleep. He can't sleep like this, being woken up in the middle of the night every damn night. Or, he can sleep, but he can't function properly after waking.

Sokka helps Teo maneuver from chair to mattress and unwinds his leg wrappings, then pulls the blanket over him.

Zuko half-turns away and respectfully lowers his head, as though he feels he shouldn't watch a care process Teo might feel semi-private about.

"Night," Sokka says, and Teo smiles at him-- at them. At him and at Zuko.

"Goodnight, guys," Teo says, and he closes his eyes.

"Goodnight," Zuko says, looking back at Teo. "And thank you."

Zuko seems to know Sokka will want the bathroom again, as though doing this at night once has been enough to transform it into a routine, and Zuko begins to walk in the direction of the trees. After a few steps he checks over his shoulder to ascertain that Sokka's following. Sokka picks up the pre-prepared torch near the firepit, then starts after Zuko. "Teo insisted I lie on his bed," Zuko says, as if he's guilty of something.

"Well, Teo's the nicest person ever, so," Sokka says.

The tight lines of Zuko's shoulders infintesimally loosen at this answer, and Zuko nods, his tense expression easing. "Last night we talked, tonight he really wanted me to get some sleep. I have a feeling if I'd actually fallen asleep, he wouldn't have woken any of you up to watch me."

"What did you talk about? Last night, I mean."

"Uh... our homes, mostly. Where we came from. And he talked about some engineering stuff." Zuko glances back in the direction of the mattresses as they pass from the courtyard onto the side terrace leading to the garden. "He's smart."

"What makes you say so?" Sokka asks.

Zuko takes a long time to answer. "The way he can explain-- the way he can simplify complicated concepts for someone who can't follow a technical version."

It's a fair answer. Sokka squints at Zuko. "How are you holding up?"

"Okay, I guess." Zuko makes a face that belies his middling words. "When I asked to be your prisoner, I didn't realize there would be this much bondage involved."

"Bondage," Sokka says. "Jeez. You make it sound dirty."

Hilariously, Sokka's words elicit a blush, and Zuko ducks his head. "How? I'm just stating a fact, you have me in bondage. I'm tied up," Zuko adds, as if that isn't obvious.

Sokka gestures vaguely to Zuko's midsection. "Are you feeling, you know, all better?"

Zuko nods as they reach the trees, and Sokka sets the torch down on the stone of the walkway. "Katara's kind of amazing," Zuko says. "I wish she didn't hate me."

"Do not even think about it," Sokka warns him, and Zuko instantly starts to splutter.

"I did _not_ mean it like that, swear before Agni," Zuko says quickly. "I meant-- her bending. Her healing ability is amazing."

Sokka gives him a mock-suspicious look, but he doesn't really think Zuko has any designs on Katara, and Katara would flatten Zuko like an annoying spiderfly if he did. Sokka goes into the latrine spot first, then comes out and waits for Zuko in turn. Tonight, when Zuko's been retied and begins walking back to the terrace, instead of following him Sokka falls into step beside him, and the two of them walk back to the fountain side by side. Zuko gazes sideways at Sokka like he's a little surprised to be joined, like he's been taken off guard by the trust.

Sokka's feeling more awake after the brief walk to the trees, though he'd still like to go back to sleep. "Did you not know you were a firebender when you were a kid?" Sokka asks as they pass the gray flowers that, like Zuko's eyes, would be yellow if the sun were up.

"What?" Despite his hushed volume, Zuko's puzzlement is obvious. Zuko gives him a strange sidelong look. "Of course I knew."

"I've never seen a firebender carrying a weapon, let alone using one, and Aang said you're good with your swords."

Zuko mumbles something mostly incomprehensible. To be fair, they're passing the mattresses, and it'd be inconsiderate to wake anyone else up with carelessly loud conversation.

Sokka leans slightly sideways, keeping his voice down. "Come again?"

"I said I wasn't a very good firebender when I was little," Zuko whispers marginally more intelligibly, staring straight ahead.

Sokka waits until they've emerged from underneath the pagoda overhand and are moving away from the row of mostly occupied mattresses to quietly reply. "Why not study with a spear like the rest of your army then? The ones who aren't firebenders?"

"Those are halberds, not spears," Zuko says softly. "You're talking about pikemen."

Sokka's talking about the Fire Nation guys with the spears. "Whatever, what's the difference?"

"Spears are longer, and for throwing," Zuko explains as they walk through the courtyard. "Halberds and poleaxes are for combat. They're all subcategories of polearms."

Sokka feels his cheeks flush to have Zuko of all people educating him on weapons. "These labels and classifications sound irrelevantly fancy. My point is, polearms are pretty clearly the preferred weapon of the Fire Nation. So why not a halberd, then?"

They reach the fountain and Zuko sits down against it, leaning back and stretching out his long legs in front of him. "The halberd is a weapon for soldiers. Commoners can use swords, but royalty do not use polearms. I've never even held one."

"In the Southern Water Tribe we adopt the far more sensible attitude that a great warrior should be proficient with all the weapons." A corner of Zuko's mouth twitches up, but he says nothing. Sokka inserts the torch into its narrow hole and sits closer to Zuko than he did the prior night, leaning against a nearer pillar across from Prince Screamy Time. No-- from Zuko. Calling him by his name, now. "So to compensate for being a lousy firebender, you learned to fight with a sword?"

Zuko frowns. "I wasn't lousy, I just wasn't great. But yes, there was pressure to excel. My sister was--" Zuko grimaces harder. "Extremely talented for her age."

"So according to Aang, you got really good," Sokka says. "With your funny double pirate swords."

"Dao," Zuko corrects him, and perhaps sensing his interest, Zuko ventures into further detail. "Broadswords. My mother took me to the master who's considered the best swordsman in the Fire Nation. He understood what it was like for me, because he was abandoned by his parents as a kid because he wasn't a bender. He--"

Listening, Sokka's whole world rocks. "You have got to be kidding me," Sokka interrupts. "Ohhh, this is too good. Zuko--" Sokka gets the satisfaction of Zuko's eyebrow lifting. "-- we had the same swordmaster."

Zuko's mouth falls open like he's floored. "Master Piandao taught _you_?"

"Hey, why so surprised?" Sokka says, though he's not truly offended. He's secretly quite pleased to have blown Zuko's mind.

Zuko's narrow eyes widen like he knows he's put his foot in his mouth. "I don't mean-- it's just..." Zuko shrugs helplessly. "Even at his teaching peak, he famously never took on many students, and he doesn't teach anymore."

"Oh, he teaches," Sokka assures him.

"And you're... you know. Water Tribe. I mean." Zuko half-trips over the words. "You look Water Tribe."

"Master Piandao taught me the way of the sword doesn't belong to any one nation," Sokka says loftily, and then he shrugs. "No one questions you if you say you're from the colonies. I've been wondering how you passed as Earth Kingdom stock, you're the most Fire Nation-looking guy I've ever seen."

"There are people in the Earth Kingdom who look like me," Zuko says, his voice crisp and his expression rigid. 

Sokka gets his discomfited vibe, and he doesn't need to ask how or why. They never saw it in their village, at least not in his lifetime, but Sokka's heard rumors of babies born in the Southern Water Tribe who've looked more Fire than Water. "Gotcha," Sokka says, and leaves it at that.

"So... I'm just surprised," Zuko says, recovering some of his composure. "How-- how did you convince him to instruct you?"

"He admired my creativity, intelligence, and modesty," Sokka says primly, and he rubs his hands together with excitement. "Okay, so clearly we have to spar."

Zuko blinks, then shakes his head. Zuko's eyelids are not quite in unison when he opens his eyes after blinking, maybe because the messed-up eyelids have a shorter travel distance? "No."

"Why not?" Sokka asks, chagrined. "We had the same swordmaster, this is amazing! We have to square off. I think it's like, a law."

Zuko shakes his head again, faintly. "I don't want to do that."

"Why not?" Sokka asks again, more plaintively. "It'd be friendly. Nobody else around here fights with an actual weapon, so I haven't had a chance to practice sword-to-sword with anyone since we left the Fire Nation."

Zuko's annoyingly silent now. Plainly he must be baited out.

"Don't tell me-- my swordsmanship is so obviously amazing you're afraid to fight me. Master Piandao's teaching only got better in later years, after all. And he did tell me if I kept practicing, I would someday surpass him. So I understand," Sokka says benevolently.

"I'm not afraid of you," Zuko says with irritation. "Not like that, anyway," he adds more awkwardly, then casts his eyes down.

Sokka nods wisely at the implication. "You're afraid of me in other ways," Sokka says, and he might be imagining it, but he thinks Zuko's chest might be rising and falling a little faster than normal. "Zuko, I'm not going to like, take advantage of you or anything."

Zuko looks up, bristling. "I would never allow that," Zuko vows fiercely, force and a threat and what might be fear all wrapped up in his tight voice.

"You would never allow that, I would never do that, there you go then," Sokka says easily. "So relax. We're not going to do anything really bad to you, alright?"

Zuko snorts. "I'm pretty sure if your sister saw us facing each other with swords in hand, she'd do something that qualifies as really bad."

Sokka pauses, regretful. "Yeah... she would, wouldn't she." But they can get around this. Sokka gets excited again. "We'll have to go do it somewhere secret."

"You want to go somewhere secret with me," Zuko repeats flatly, as though he's not sure he heard right. Zuko studies him in the firelight. "Are you not afraid of me?"

Sokka makes eye contact fearlessly. "Nope. Should I be? Aren't you all reformed, Mr. 'I'm Good Now'?"

"Yes." Zuko sighs, lowering his eyes. "No, I wouldn't hurt you. And we're not going to spar."

"Because you're scared of my amazing swordbending," Sokka says smugly.

"Because I _am_ good with my swords, I've been practicing for years, and I don't want to hurt you by accident."

"Uh huh."

"I'm not scared to fight you, Sokka," Zuko snaps in an intense breakthrough bout of temper. "I just don't want to hurt you, okay? Do you even have protective gear to use?"

"Cowardice is the only explanation," Sokka says airily, because he's not afraid of Zuko anymore. "It's okay Zuko, really."

For a millisecond Zuko looks as furious as Sokka has maybe ever seen him, enough to stand Sokka's hair on end and send a warning tingle down his back despite his unconcerned affectation. Sokka raises his eyebrows, but Zuko's livid expression dies just as quickly as it came. Zuko shakes his head, his lips pursing like it's suddenly dawned on him that Sokka's intentionally getting under his skin. Zuko sighs at him, giving up the argument and muttering a single rebuttal. "Swordbending is not a word."

"Mark my words, we're gonna square off," Sokka says, tapping Zuko's silly curly-toed footwear with his much sturdier Water Tribe boot. Zuko's whole leg jerks like Sokka shocked him mid-calf. "Swordbending, you and me," Sokka vows.

"Now _that_ sounds dirty," Zuko says with a completely straight face.

Sokka cracks up, because Zuko just made a joke, or at least, said something light, a callback to earlier and kind of perverted. "I guess you could take it that way. That's not how I meant it, though. Are you just desperately trying to change the subject?"

"Now who's scared?" Zuko gazes impassively at Sokka like he thinks he can turn the tables, which is ridiculous.

"Scared? _Scared_? Oh Zuko," Sokka chuckles, lightly rolling up onto his hands and knees, "you do not want to play gay chicken with me."

Sokka crawls to him, watching Zuko's lopsided eyes widen at his approach, and then he plants his hips next to Zuko's, so near the outsides of their thighs rub together as Sokka settles down beside him.

Zuko tracks Sokka's face as Sokka focuses on him, and he looks like he's holding his breath.

Sokka slings an arm snugly around Zuko's shoulders and leans by degrees into his personal space. Zuko holds absolutely still, a nonplussed expression on his face, his eyes flicking down to Sokka's lips and back up as Sokka's face nears his. Sokka moves in with glacial slowness, giving Zuko plenty of time to squeal and pull back. Sokka's close enough to see, in the light of the fire, how red Zuko's good cheek is and how dilated his pupils are, even the pupil in his bad eye. A muscle works at the back of Zuko's jaw as he swallows. Sokka wasn't planning to actually kiss the scarred and formerly evil prince of the Fire Nation, but Zuko's not jerking away and Sokka can't delay any longer without calling it off himself. Which is clearly not an option.

Sokka lets his lips land against Zuko's soft mouth, kissing him gently. How can Zuko's mouth feel so soft when his lips are chapped? He's startled when Zuko's dry lips part easily under his, and Sokka's about to slip his tongue into Zuko's mouth when the tip of Zuko's tongue sweeps into his. Then it's on, cause no way is Sokka going to let Zuko dominate this kiss. Their first kiss, Sokka's brain announces, even though he had no intention of kissing Zuko once, let alone a second time, and he shuts the voice up. Sokka avidly shoves with his tongue at Zuko's tongue and it's aggressive, almost like fighting, but this battle is one Sokka will absolutely win.

But Zuko doesn't pull away, and he gives as good as he gets, even though Sokka can reach up and steady Zuko's face against his own, whereas Zuko's tied up and all he can do is strain towards Sokka, tilting his head sideways to make their faces fit closely. Their teeth click slightly, but Zuko's undeterred and Sokka feels the same. Sokka slowly slides his hand down Zuko's neck to rest on Zuko's chest, and he doesn't need Toph around to know Zuko's heart is pounding. Beneath Sokka's arm, Zuko's shoulders feel as unyielding as they did when Katara and Aang had that little misunderstanding right after bringing Zuko back, but Zuko gives no other sign that he's uncomfortable, and his lips under Sokka's are fierce. 

Sokka draws a knee up to his chest to give him leverage and to orient his body more towards Zuko. Sokka keeps kissing him, biting lightly a few times at now-wet lips and getting soundly nipped in return, breathing in Zuko's exhalations. Sokka can't really tell what Zuko's breath is like, or how his mouth tastes, because the wind is blowing their way and sending smoke from the torch and the fire into their faces, so all Sokka can smell is the fragrant burning. Sokka was initially too startled to start getting hard, but he can feel himself stiffening now. Sokka cycles through his usual series of thoughts to arrest and reverse the process. He thinks about being lost in the Spirit World, being thirsty and stuck in the desert, the fancy dinner in the North Pole at which he tried to eat fermented salmon head, the time he tripped and fell into a neck-high mound of fresh, steaming sky bison poop. His efforts are helped along by the fact Sokka isn't sure Zuko actually wants to be kissing him, which is a turnoff all its own.

Sokka finally draws back a couple of inches, because spontaneous gay chicken just turned into, well... really ardent gay kissing, and Zuko's still tied up and might not feel in a position to say no, especially after Sokka taunted him about being afraid to spar. "One of us is supposed to laugh and cringe and say stop," Sokka stresses. Zuko's eyes are closed, and he's breathing hard, and once he's no longer being kissed he turns away to face forward, away from Sokka.

Sokka lets the hand on Zuko's chest drop down to his own thigh. "Say something. Did I break you?" Sokka asks, and he's kidding, but he's also a little worried now after the fact, because he kissed Zuko while Zuko's tied up. Arguably not a cool thing to do, especially when he promised mere minutes ago he wouldn't try to take advantage. Zuko could easily have stopped him though, if he really wanted to--

"I'm fine," Zuko says, like he's composing himself, and his tone is calm and easy, like his shoulders aren't carved from granite and his heart isn't racing along like a polar bear sled dog. "I win."

Shit, Sokka did pull away first. "Shit. Only because... well, you're tied up, consent was not given, these things kinda make it wrong," Sokka explains. "I didn't think you were gonna actually let it go that far."

"Sounds like a bunch of excuses to me," Zuko says evenly, and Sokka can't help but laugh. "It's not much of a game, is it," Zuko says, and his voice cracks.

"It's ridiculous, and you'll be pleased to know I learned it in the Fire Nation," Sokka says, self-consciously rubbing his knee with his palm. "Yeah, I got the impression one party generally calls it off before the kissing actually starts."

"Experimenting," Zuko says softly in his strange hoarse voice. "Or testing the waters."

Testing the waters?

"Wait, what?" Sokka's a second away from challenging Zuko to a rematch when this last statement distracts him, and then his attention is pulled away from that too, because his eyes fall on a telltale lift in Zuko's pants that Sokka's positive wasn't there earlier.

"Shit," Sokka says, pulling his arm off Zuko's shoulders. He's got no idea what to say. Spirits alive, he got Zuko _hard_. More kissing is right out, cause Sokka doesn't want to blue ball a tied-up prisoner. Sokka gets hard from anything and everything, but _Zuko_? 

Sokka psyched himself down to about half-mast, but Zuko looks like he made no effort whatsoever to stop the process. "You got hard from one kiss? Damn, I'm good." 

Granted it was probably the world's longest kiss ever, like thirty hard-pressing kisses in one go. Sokka feels his brow crease and makes an effort to relax the muscles of his forehead, to paste on a mild expression to go with his next question. "Are you gay?"

Sokka's sitting on Zuko's unscarred side, and he has a good view of Zuko's cheek as it flushes pink. "No one's gay in the Fire Nation," Zuko says without feeling, as though repeating propaganda to which he hasn't subscribed, as though saying it limply might make the words true.

"You're gay, and it's illegal," Sokka marvels. "Is that why you got kicked--"

"I'm not gay," Zuko interrupts sharply. "And no, that's not why I'm-- no. No one knows, okay? You and maybe one other person. That's it."

"Well, I won't tell anyone how much you enjoyed kissing your local male Water Tribe peasant," Sokka says, and if his eyes are dancing a little, who can blame him? "It can be our secret."

"I'm." Zuko's blush deepens, and he scrapes the heel of his pointy-toed boot against the stone. "Maybe bi," he concedes quietly after a long pause.

"Huh," Sokka says, leaning back against the fountain. They're still sitting with their thighs pressed together. "Me too, I think."

Zuko looks up at him, startled and searching. "You are?" A small snort, complete with light gray smoke, comes out of his nostrils. "If you're bi, then that was cheating."

"Well, I said I think. I've never messed around with another guy," Sokka admits. "I was the only guy my age in our village."

"But you said you picked it up in the Fire Nation--" Zuko says, obviously confused.

"Yeah, I meant that's where I heard of it. I didn't try it with anyone," Sokka clarifies. "So who knows, I could have hated it."

"Oh." The obvious question hangs in the air for a second before Zuko asks it, and Sokka doesn't miss Zuko briefly side-eyeing his lap to see whether Sokka's in a similarly aroused state. "Did you?"

"I did not," Sokka says with genteel reserve. "In any case, I had to, cause you were being suggestive and I thought I'd freak you out. But here you are not at all freaked out. So... top, bottom?"

Sokka waits expectantly for the answer, but Zuko gives him a blank look. "I don't know what you're asking," Zuko says finally, hesitant with uncertainty.

Sokka illustrates with an explicit gesture, casually making a circle with his left fist and sliding his right index finger inside to get the point across, though his words are just as direct. "Do you want to stick your dick in a guy, or do you want a guy to stick his dick in you?"

Zuko's eyes widen, and his fading blush returns in a raging scarlet bloom. Zuko's so easy to fluster, it's as though the blood in his right cheek is lurking half a millimeter below the surface, just waiting for Sokka to bring it flooding upwards to detonate right under his skin. "I don't know. Either, maybe," Zuko says defensively, like he expects derision for this admission, even though Sokka's the one who kissed him and the one posing the question without even pretending to be unintrigued. "Did you catch the part where it's illegal in my country?"

"Clearly you have no issue with breaking Fire Nation laws," Sokka points out. "What with the rescuing Aang from Zhao and all. And in the Fire Sages' temple Zhao said you broke the terms of your banishment just by being there."

Zuko lacks a quick answer for that. He has some kind of look, though, that Sokka can only minimally read, like he's feeling shy or insecure or precarious in some way. His eyes travel from Sokka down to the stone of the terrace and off into the distance. "That was me trying to capture the Avatar," Zuko says at last. "For my country and my place in it. That was a totally different-- kind of violation."

"Well, don't worry, I won't turn you in," Sokka kids. "So uh. Sorry I got you all hot and bothered," Sokka says more seriously, and he glances again at Zuko's groin. "I don't wanna molest you while you're tied up."

Zuko gives him a long, strange look.

"What?" Sokka asks.

Zuko ducks his head to the left, at last showing the kind of speechless mortification Sokka was expecting when he crawled to Zuko on his hands and knees intent on freaking him out. "Nothing."

Silence falls for a minute. A change of topic is probably called for, although Sokka is for sure going to revisit the subject of their potentially mutual bisexuality in the future. "Say, did you know you whimper in your sleep?" Sokka asks. Maybe not the best question to revive a flagging conversation, but hey. He's been wondering.

"Yes, it's been mentioned to me," Zuko answers, scowling in an abrupt shift of mood. "I can't help it, I'm asleep."

"You called for your dad once, too," Sokka informs him.

Zuko raises his lone eyebrow. "I doubt that," Zuko says more calmly, eyeballing him like he thinks Sokka's bullshitting him now.

"You didn't call him 'Fire Lord' either," Sokka notes, nonchalantly examining his short nails, which he can scarcely see in the firelight but which Sokka knows are dirty. That's okay though, Sokka knows Zuko's are bitten scant and ragged. "You said 'Father.' You actually talk a lot in your sleep."

"What else did I say?" Zuko asks as though he expects Sokka to tell him whether he wants to know or not, as though he's resigned himself to this discussion.

"Eh, most of it wasn't intelligble," Sokka says dismissively. "You're a pretty active sleeper though."

"No state secrets then?" Zuko asks, his face still inscrutable and his voice dry.

Sokka exaggeratedly double-takes. "Did you just make a _second_ joke?!"

Zuko looks into the flickering fire. "I guess so."

Zuko sounds so quiet and serious, Sokka lets the conversation lapse into silence again, which is a little awkward. "So what's it like to live on a Fire Nation ship?" Sokka asks.

Zuko's answer is halting at first, peppered with "uh's" and "well's," but Sokka gets him talking again. This time they keep talking, and the next time Sokka thinks to glance up at the night sky, he realizes they've surpassed the point at which Sokka should have woken Toph.

"So wait a second," Sokka says, something else dawning on him. The conversation has turned back to Master Piandao and sword lessons, how long they each trained with him (Zuko is highly dubious about Sokka's training lasting mere days), why they chose the weapons they did (consensus is that the ones they went with just felt right), and the other tests and trials Piandao put them through. "Did you forge your broadswords yourself?"

"Well, I helped, you know, with the coal and the bellows," Zuko says. "I was eleven. Master Piandao poured the molds and tempered the swords."

"Well, yeah, obviously," Sokka says.

"Does he still make his students paint the landscape behind his manor?" Zuko asks.

"He does!" Sokka says happily, pleased to be discovering multiple shared experiences. "I added a rainbow to mine."

Zuko pauses as if envisioning their master's reaction. "I bet that went over well."

"Well, you know," Sokka says airily. "He liked me. I think after some time he sort of came to expect that kind of thing."

"Can I please have some water?" Zuko asks. Sokka gets up, grabs a cup and fills it in the fountain stream, then sits next to Zuko again and puts the rim to Zuko's dry lips.

"So, surely if you've been practicing with your broadswords for years, you're good enough with them not to commit the ultimate fail of getting overexcited and accidentally killing a sparring partner," Sokka says.

Zuko rolls his eyes as though to say-- _are we back to that again?_ and he keeps drinking.

"Piandao really got me too, I think. Understood my situation," Sokka says while Zuko drinks. "Because of his own, I mean."

Zuko studies him intently while he rhythmically swallows, like Sokka's got answers to all Zuko's questions printed on his face. When the water's gone, Sokka sets the cup down. "What situation was that?" Zuko asks when he's taken a couple of breaths.

Sokka rubs his knees with his fingers, feeling fidgety. "It was rough for a while being the only non-bender on Team Avatar. I mean, I guess I'm not now, but I was," Sokka corrects himself. "Traveling with a trio of super-powered benders was kind of ... it was depressing, sometimes." Zuko nods once like he understands, and who knows, maybe he does. "So how come you never wore your swords when you were stalking us like a creepy ex?"

"I wore them sometimes," Zuko says, looking away. He can't possibly be actually looking at anything, the night is far too dark to see anything more than a dozen steps away from the fire or half that diameter from the torch, which must mean Zuko's simply had as much eye contact as he can handle without a break. "Like when I rescued the Avatar."

"You can call him Aang, you know," Sokka says. "That's his name."

Zuko turns his face towards Sokka again. "It's more respectful to use his title," Zuko justifies.

Sokka reaches up and playfully slaps his own forehead. "Of course, you call your dad 'the Fire Lord,' what was I thinking." Sokka looks at Zuko neutrally, thoughtful. "I'll give you a piece of advice, though. You left your country to come here. Leave your customs behind too. You want to be here as a friend, to be Aang's friend? Then call him by his name."

"All right," Zuko says stiffly.

Sokka slides his arm back around Zuko's shoulder. "Using titles might be more courteous, but people respond better to the use of their names, _Zuko_."

Zuko's unscarred cheek instantly spots pink again, as if Sokka's uttered something miles more suggestive than just his name.

Maybe Sokka did.

Despite his obvious consternation Zuko manages to hold eye contact and for a few seconds they just look at each other.

Sokka glances across the courtyard at his sleeping friends, then turns back to Zuko. "Can I trust you to stay put?"

Zuko nods solemnly. "Of course."

Sokka reclaims his arm, slaps Zuko on his long slim thigh because it's right there and it's tempting, then gets to his feet and leaves the terrace. Sokka walks alone into the pagoda, under the protruding roof where the others are asleep. Sokka heads into the supply room first to sling a spare blanket over his shoulder. Then he walks into the room with huge open gaps where in any kind of normal structure walls should be, and then he walks deeper still until he comes to the marginally more enclosed living quarters. Sokka walks past open doorways, scanning the contents of the rooms. Time has had its way with all of the Western Air Temple. Some rooms are empty save for everything but dirt and dust, spiderwebs and the scat of small animals, and some are full of broken, moldy, or rusted trash that might once have been furnishings, tools, toys, bowls, clothing. The place looks like it's been pillaged, looted in addition to emptied. The building is full of the ancient detritus of lives lived, but things are conspicuously missing. Bookshelves and scroll racks are overturned but only a few scroll cases are scattered on the floors. Sokka traverses many rooms and only sees a few wardrobes, but all stand empty. Sokka looks until he finds a mattress that appears something other than disgusting, then flips his selection on its edge and drags the pallet back with him. The mattress isn't outstanding-- even the best ones aren't much, but the padding is something.

When Sokka comes back in visual range of the firepit, he sees the expression on Zuko's face, and forget the three shabby inches of padding, the gesture means much, much more. Zuko looks up at him with his good eye as wide and his face as open as a child's. Again Sokka's left with the impression Zuko has no conception of how to handle overtures of friendship large or small, like no one's been kind to him in so long he's too staggered to react normally when someone does something as small as insinuate future camaraderie or bring him something to sleep on when he has nothing.

"Thank you," Zuko says quietly, a perfectly acceptable acknowledgement. Zuko knows _how_ to respond, his reactions are only delayed by wonder and vulnerability.

Sokka flops the mattress down as quietly as he can. Dust spurts out in all directions when the pallet lands on the courtyard stone, a cloud visible even in the semi-darkness. "Yikes," Sokka says of the dust. "You're welcome," Sokka says as he spreads the blanket overtop the mattress, and he nods. "Alright. Goodnight buddy."

Zuko's silent for a second, and then, "Goodnight, Sokka."

*

Haru wanted to take a day shift watching Zuko, so the next day Sokka's not scheduled to watch Zuko at all until that night. Sokka decides to make the most of his free time, starting with heading out early in the morning to check and reset his traps.

Sokka runs into Zuko while he's heading to the latrine and Zuko's coming out of the trees. Because they're immediately post-breakfast, Zuko's untied for the latrine and ungagged too, and since his bout of illness they've been letting Zuko walk to the trees and back on his own. Zuko seems startled to see him, but stops in front of Sokka and looks at him searchingly. Zuko swallows once and speaks in an undertone, and for a moment Sokka thinks he wants to talk about the previous night. What he actually says is nothing Sokka expects. "Will you please gag me again? I'm sorry it's gross."

"What? Why?" Sokka answers in an identical whisper, although he couldn't say why.

Zuko lowers his head. "Nothing," he murmurs, as though he's ashamed to have made this request, and he walks swiftly away, back towards the fountain. "Nevermind."

Sokka's baffled by this humiliated, quickly aborted ask, but he needs to pee and can't really dwell on it just then. Sokka stares at Zuko's retreating head for a second, then ducks into the trees and takes care of business. After that Sokka heads to the supply room. As he passes the fountain, he realizes The Duke's retying the gag, and then the reason for the request clicks in Sokka's mind. The Duke is decidedly not being careful about avoiding drawing Zuko's hair into his knots, pulling Zuko's head back in the process and making his eyes water. Sokka has to look for a second to notice, because the effect is slight. The wetness has to be an involuntary response, because Zuko's a tough son of a bitch, and Sokka doubts he'd cry from a little pain.

Although Zuko closes his eyes, his hair is still visibly taut and tangled in the knot and spirals of rope, and the gag's probably still actively pulling even after The Duke finishes. Sokka's basically rubbernecking as he passes, and he has to face front before he trips or ambles into something. Of course with his luck, he'd probably manage to walk off the side of the pagoda terrace.

"Hey, be gentle," Sokka calls to The Duke, though he keeps walking.

What he just witnessed stays on his mind, though, as he reaches the supply room and starts packing a bag to head into the forest. Sokka knows what hair traction feels like from the times he's tied his warrior's wolftail badly. But touching Zuko's hair to fix the pulling would be really awkward, like overstepping almost. He'll have to say something to The Duke, and Katara will probably accuse Sokka of retying the gag gratuitously. Then again, he did suck Zuko's face last night. Flowers and small gifts are out, because he's certainly not having a romance or anything with Zuko, but maybe Sokka should do the nice gesture for him.

 _I'm sorry it's gross._ Like being gagged is Zuko's fault.

Sokka reviews the supplies he's gathered for his minor expedition-- several different canvas bags in case he caught some game in a trap, in case he stumbles upon wild fruits or vegetables, and to carry two flasks of water and a coil of rope. You never know when you'll find yourself in need of rope, and it's always better to have it and not need it than the other way around. Sokka shoulders his bag and exits the supply room. He heads straight to Zuko, who's sitting quietly with his back straight and his eyes closed. Sokka sets his pack down and without speaking, unties the gag. Sokka slowly and firmly scratches his fingers up along the back of Zuko's scalp where his hair was pulled, and Zuko's head immediately arches into his touch, seeking the relief. Zuko straightens his head quickly, but it's simultaneously incredibly gratifying to have Zuko respond to his touch like that, and kind of embarrassing to have it happen so conspicuously in front of other people. Sokka's heart lurches, then freezes, and Zuko's probably even more embarrassed. Thankfully Katara's busy cleaning up from breakfast and didn't see. Sokka soothingly rubs his fingertips on the skin under Zuko's hair for just another few seconds, with no reaction whatsoever from Zuko, before he begins winding the rope back around Zuko's head.

"Where's The Duke?" Sokka asks Toph as he carefully reties the gag.

Toph jerks a thumb towards the side of the garden with the trio of wild trees.

It's just as well, because Sokka isn't sure what he's going to say to The Duke about his heedless treatment of their prisoner. 

"Ankth," Zuko says through and around the cord. The word is muffled and broken up, but intelligible. The wetness in his eyes has lessened and been blinked away, though he still looks bleary.

"Yep," Sokka says. "Is your circulation getting cut off?" Sokka puts his hand on Zuko's wrists. "I can retie this if you want."

Zuko shakes his head.

"Okay," Sokka says, straightening up. "Haru, a word?"

"Sure," Haru says, looking up curiously, and Haru follows Sokka beneath the overhang of the pagoda.

Sokka rests a hand on Haru's shoulder to give their conversation more weight. "I need a favor."

"Sure," Haru says. "What's that?"

"The Duke's being too rough with Zuko," Sokka says bluntly. "I don't think he means to be, but I don't want him doing Zuko's gag or his wrists. I need to go check my traps and look for wood. Can you please not just guard Zuko, but watch out for him?"

"Of course," Haru agrees.

"Make sure he isn't like... actively suffering," Sokka continues.

"You got it," Haru says seriously just as Teo rolls his barrow-chair over to them.

"Everything good?" Teo asks, looking between them.

"Everything's good," Sokka says, clapping Haru on the shoulder before he drops his hand, and he gives Teo's shoulder a pat with his other hand for good measure. "Back later," Sokka says, and then, at last, Sokka heads out of the Western Air Temple up into the forest.

Sokka only has six traps to check-- two foothold traps, a net, and three snares, but he's spread them out around the forest. To avoid losing his traps or getting lost himself, and to enable his friends to check his traps in his place, Sokka's marked the paths he chose with small cairns laid out in the shapes of arrows. Sokka ducks under the waist-height perimeters he tied around the nearby trees to warn off humans in the vicinity. Some of his border markers are woven thistle fiber rope from home, some are rough hemp twine he picked up in the Earth Kingdom, some are top-notch factory-made Fire Nation rope. The Fire Nation performs one thing adequately, at least. Sokka hasn't figured out what raw material their factories use to manufacture their superior cordage, soft and strong as it is, but at some point he's going to find out. Maybe he should ask Zuko.

Sokka walks from trap to trap in what he believes is a large meandering circle through the forest. He keeps his eyes sharp for likely pieces of wood to carve into boomerangs, and he finds a couple and uses his space sword to whack them into sections small enough to carry back. Sokka figures he'll go hunting for suitable fallen branches afterwards if he still hasn't caught any game, but as he's heading towards his last trap, he hears a high-pitched squealing. Sokka draws his space sword and approaches silently, creeping forward through the forest with an abundance of caution. He stops dead in his tracks and straightens when he sees he's snagged the biggest game of his life-- an adolescent boar-q-pine is noosed in the trap. Not even an adolescent, a boar-q-pette. Sokka's stunned, pacing a half-circle around the thing, because his big-game snare never catches anything, to the point where he was considering quitting putting it out. But here, now, the snare deployed perfectly.

Sokka pulls out Boomerang and moves a bit back. Drawing a deep breath, he throws it hard and true to stun the animal. He's lucky the boar-q-pette's as young as it is, or he'd have to butcher it on the spot and would never be able to salvage all the delicious satisfying meat he wants to obtain here.

After the animal is stunned and the squealing stops, Sokka puts Boomerang away and draws his sword. Then he holds still for a long and wary moment, listening to the sounds of the forest, because if there are young around, the mother can't be far off. When he hears nothing in the immediate vicinity, Sokka steps in and puts a hand on the boar-q-pette's head. Sokka believes in science, but he's seen enough of the Spirit World to believe in the animism of his people too, and and the last thing he wants is to displease the spirits. Even if he didn't personally believe, thanking the spirit of the animal he's about to slaughter is Southern Water Tribe tradition. Sokka lowers his head and speaks the ritual words hurriedly while continuing to glance around from under his eyelashes. Surely the spirit of the boar-q-pette will understand he's positively teeming with gratitude for its sacrifice, but currently a bit freaked about the possibility of an adult boar-q-pine arriving on the scene. When he finishes, Sokka lifts his space sword and does the deed.

And that's the easy part. Transporting the boar-q-pette back to camp is the most difficult thing he's done in a while. The carcass has to weigh at least seventy pounds, and most of the animal's body is impossible to touch, and Sokka's nervous every step of the way about the possibility of a full-grown mom-q-pine showing up and flattening him with its sheer bulk. In the end, after several failed attempts to drag the animal by its horns, Sokka ends up tying his food bags together into a half-assed sling. The trip back to the Air Temple is equal parts delight and pants-wetting terror.

His arms, shoulders, and back are aching by the time he gets the carcass back to the Air Temple, but the others' reactions are worth it, and pride and adrenaline, excitement and determination propel him on. "Whoa," Haru says when he pulls the creature onto the terrace.

Katara stands up, obviously impressed but as his sister, not about to openly say so. "Jeez, not bad Sokka."

"Nice, right?" Sokka pants, and Haru grabs a horn and helps him drag the creature in the direction of the fountain.

"You're not going to butcher that right here, are you?" Katara asks. Aang wrinkles his nose.

Sokka stops hauling to have this conversation, straightening and wiping his brow and forehead with his arm. "Uh... yes?"

Katara rolls her eyes.

"This way you'll be close by to start in on the small cuts, and you can just waterbend the area clean after," Sokka reasons.

Katara purses her lips. "At least take it to the corner of the terrace. I'd rather not get splattered, if it's all the same to you."

"Back off, I got this," Toph says, and with both hands she bends the top layer of the stone of the terrace up in a rippling effect, transporting their presumptive dinner to a point about fifteen feet away from the fountain.

"That should keep everyone out of the splash zone," Toph says, dusting off her hands as though she actually touched something. "Good spot?"

"Perfect," Sokka says. "Thanks, Toph."

Usually they drink from the clean stream coming down into the fountain rather than from its accumulated water, but Sokka sticks his face straight into the fountain pool and takes a long drink, then stands up dripping and strips off his sweat-drenched shirt.

Katara's already making cooking plans. "We're going to need some thick, sturdy straight branches and twice as many with crotches--" Toph laughs and Sokka gives her a stern look, which he then realizes is completely pointless. "--for rotisserie spit roasting. Plus more firewood," Katara goes on. "A lot more. We'll need a second and maybe a third fire to start cooking and drying all this."

"Zuko can cook them," Sokka suggests. "I mean, start and keep some fires going." Sokka looks over at Zuko. "Can't you?"

Zuko nods tentatively.

Katara gets cross. "For the last time, Sokka, we're not untying him to let him work and we're not letting him near the food!"

"This isn't like washing Appa," Sokka says. "Anyone can do that. It would save you the effort of watching a bunch of fires, and save everybody a ton of time and energy gathering firewood."

"No," Katara says, her voice ringing with finality. "Haru and The Duke will be happy to go gather firewood. Won't you guys?"

"Sure," Haru says, glancing at The Duke, and the two of them head off.

"Beware of mother boar-q-pines!" Sokka yells after them. Well, he tried to save them some work.

In a fit of brilliance Sokka goes to his room and puts on his cropped burgundy Fire Nation pants to wear while he razzles and dazzles with his butchery and charcuterie know-how. With red pants on, he won't have a mess of bloodstains to get out later.

Upon returning to the terrace, Sokka begins the unmistakably delicate process of de-quilling the carcass. After trying a couple of different things, he grips the boar-q-pine by the horn and uses his space sword like a razor to shave the quills off. Under other circumstances, he'd want to do a whole-animal roast. In their current situation, it'll be better to spend the rest of the day preparing different cuts of meat for various types of preservation.

Removing the thick sheaf of quills takes longer than he expected, and Sokka ends up bloody to the elbows and with his pants soaked in blood, partly from dripping and partly from kneeling in a spreading pool. Once he has the quills off and is down to stubby skin, Sokka straightens up. "You know," he says to Katara.

"You don't have to say it-- nothing makes you feel as manly as being covered in blood," Katara says. Aang looks faintly queasy. Zuko's just watching.

"You know me so well," Sokka says cheerfully, still feeling positive despite the arduous nature of the task, although that wasn't what he was about to say at all. While he's looking at Katara he shifts his hand two millimeters and gets a quill under a fingernail. "Ow! Don't distract me!" Sokka pops the digit in his mouth for a second and sucks.

"Sorry," Katara says, smiling at him and not sounding half as sorry as she should.

"That's actually not what I was going to say though," Sokka goes on, pulling his finger out of his mouth. "Can you waterbend this thing clean?"

"Sure," Katara agrees, and she rises and uses water from the fountain to forcefully blast the accumulated dirt, grass, waste and blood from the de-quilled animal. Katara uses as much care as Sokka, washing first one side, then flipping the carcass with a wave and washing the other side, then the head, the rear, and each leg, after which she gives the whole animal a final rinse and sweeps the debris and residue off the terrace.

Katara's waterbending saves him at least half an hour of back-aching beast-scrubbing, and Sokka follows her washing act up by whipping out Knifey and beginning to skin the carcass. Normally the hide of an animal can be used any number of ways, but Sokka can't think of a single good use for the stubbly, broken-quilled skin of the boar-q-pine. Maybe if he could have skinned the beastie without first removing the quills, he could have used the hide to line the bottom of a pitfall or wolf trap, or mounted the hide to a shield for one heck of an exciting shield, but that sure wasn't happening without a lot of time and extra hands. Sokka has too much to do here already to try anything experimental and innovative that's going to take a long time and maybe come to nothing. Sokka has eight people to feed. Aang counts despite being a vegetarian. There's only so much Sokka can do to come up with food that isn't meat, but if the rest of them are eating meat, there's more rice, fruit and nuts for Aang.

At last Sokka uses his sword to begin butchering. Knifey, perfectly suitable for lopping apart jackalopes and elephant rats, is just not going to do the trick for game this big. Obviously he's never carved up a boar-q-pine before, but knowledge of how to take a mammal apart is relatively transferable. Sokka starts by cracking the pelvis in half and forcing the hind quarters flat, then moves on to the breastbone, cutting downward. He cuts off the hooves and hacks through the backbone, severing vertebrae in small batches, then switches back to Knifey and starts excising organs. The heart and liver can go into the sausage. He carefully avoids nicking the intestines, which immediately go to Katara to be cleaned out via her bending. He passes her some additional cuts to filet for jerky and bacon. Lard from the stomach lining can be rendered for pemmican, one of Sokka's favorite all-day-on-Appa essentials. The cheek and neck meat will make a filling stew, and tonight they'll eat ribs and loin.

Sokka's still happily hacking away when Haru and The Duke come back with a promising assortment of logs and branches. Just a little more chopping, and he can take a bath and lie down for the rest of the day. Sokka works through lunch, because the work of the abbatoir doesn't really allow for a good stopping place. The others go over to the firepit to eat, and twenty minutes later or so wander back, though no one comes within splatter distance. Sokka keeps cutting and trimming and sorting.

"I got mad skills," Sokka tells Zuko when he sees Zuko looking at him as Haru reties the gag after lunch. Zuko just stares at him, probably because Water Tribe warriors look terrifying covered in bloodsmears, and that's okay. Sokka knows he's awesome, he doesn't need to be told.

After what feels like many hours, Sokka finally finishes up what he feels he can manage. He's exhausted. At home, with more helping and knowledgeable hands, they wouldn't let any part of the animal go to waste, but Sokka disposes of the feet and snout into the ravine. They don't have the right ingredients to pickle anything, and they have more than enough to eat. Haru and Toph plant the forked branches into the ground of the firepit, Katara piles up wood and uses the flint and steel with some cottonwood bark tinder to get three separate fires started, after which she and Sokka and Haru start tying various cuts of meat onto the roasting sticks and laying the thinly sliced stuff atop Toph's specially constructed rock-cooking surfaces. Finally Sokka carries the cuts of meat they're not preparing immediately to a cool dark corner of Second Choice Pagoda, where Katara puts them into a deep freeze. She'll have to maintain the ice block a few times a day, probably, at least, and she still has numerous cuts to carve up and cook, but none of that is Sokka's problem. His part of Operation Boar-q-pette Butchery is complete.

"I am so tired," Sokka says as he and Katara walk back to the terrace.

"Have a nap then," Katara says. "Take a bath first though, because this--" Katara makes a head-to-toe gesture at him. "--is incredibly gross. And I think it bothers Aang."

"Agreed on the bath," Sokka says, plodding at her side.

"Congratulations, though," Katara says with real warmth in her voice. "Dad would be proud."

Sokka flashes her a surprised, pleased, tired smile. "Thanks," he says, meaning it.

Together they emerge back into the afternoon light of the terrace courtyard. Teo's started chopping carrots to have with dinner. Aang and Toph are gone, probably for rock throwing hour. Sokka limps over to the fountain and unfastens his soiled pants. His back aches from dragging the heavy carcass and bending over, his arms ache from swinging his sword, his calves and thighs ache from kneeling and crouching, his neck and shoulders are tight, and both hands ache from all the gripping and forceful cutting. He'd bet by tomorrow his shoulders are going to feel as hard as rock, but having done a hard day's labor, having been productive, knowing everyone will be able to eat, all feels really good. The sun says the time is mid-afternoon, well past lunch. "Bath, then food during bath if someone would be so kind, then nap. Haru, would you please grab the soap for me?"

Zuko catches Sokka's eyes and does a head-ducking motion to his shoulder, his way of requesting the gag come out.

Sokka glances down at his hands, which are deeply stained red with a handful of still-wet spots. "You probably don't want me to touch you right now," he says. "Katara, can you take the gag off him?"

Katara looks up from the packets of seasonings she's evaluating. "Why?"

"Because he asked?" Sokka says.

Katara stares at Zuko for a moment. "He didn't say anything."

"He did a--" How to describe Zuko's style of peculiar head bob request? "He asked nonverbally."

"So? We don't have to do whatever he asks, he's a prisoner Sokka," Katara says, sounding as snotty as when she was twelve.

"Why are you being like this?" Sokka says impatiently. "Okay, _I_ would do it, because either he's thirsty or needs the trees, but I am asking you nicely to please do it since I'm kind of indisposed." Katara just looks at him disapprovingly. "You are ruining my provider-happy!" Sokka accuses, plunging his hands into the cool water of the fountain to scrub at them, since Teo is slicing vegetables, Haru's gone to fetch the soap, and Aang and Toph and The Duke are who knows where, and apparently if he wants Zuko ungagged he's going to have to do it himself.

"I'll get him," Teo says, setting down the carrot he was chopping and the knife he was using to chop it with. Teo rolls over and Zuko kneels by the pillar to put his back to Teo, a respectful expression on his face.

While Teo removes the gag, Sokka takes a hard look at the Fire Nation pants he just pulled off, which naturally turn out to be the wrong shade of red to conceal bloodstains. So he's going to have a task washing his clothes after all. Fantastic.

Katara walks past them to the messy area of the terrace and begins using the cool water from the fountain to drill the bloodstains from the stone, hitting the red blotches with tremendous force to drive the marks out. Maybe when she's feeling less grumpy, Katara can clean his pants with the force of a hundred rivers, too.

Sokka notices Zuko looking him up and down, dressed only in his pale purple loincloth shorts as Sokka is. Zuko moistens his lips and swallows once the gag is out. "I was just going to offer to heat the water in the fountain for you," Zuko says.

"That sounds-- completely amazing," Sokka says, surprised for the second time in five minutes, and Zuko stands so Teo can lean forward again and untie Zuko's wrists.

Katara can evidently still hear them over the pounding of water against stone, because she blanches. "Sokka, he could boil you alive," Katara points out. "By accident, of course," Katara says scathingly when Sokka and Zuko both open their mouths to speak.

"I won't," Zuko says, each word lined with soft, apologetic sincerity as he looks at Katara. "I promise, I'll be very careful with your brother."

Katara sweeps her hand out angrily as if to shut him up, and she addresses Sokka and Teo. "This is so stupid. He hasn't done anything to earn our trust."

"He's behaved? He's submitted to being humiliated and denied sleep? He passed Toph's interrogation?" Sokka shrugs. "What do you want from him?"

"Honestly? I want him to go away," Katara says.

Teo finishes untying Zuko's wrists. "Well I want a hot bath," Sokka counters.

"We're not letting him go away, that's the whole point of having a prisoner," Teo says quietly.

Zuko avoids looking at Katara. He says something to Teo too quiet for Sokka to catch, probably one of his quiet 'thanks,' and Teo nods at him. The first thing Zuko does when he's untied is always to start stretching his arms, and now is no exception, but while he elongates his deltoids he walks over, sits on the edge of the fountain and puts his fingers into the water. In less than a minute, steam starts rising off the surface.

"How hot do you want it?" Zuko asks. Sokka sticks a hand in, considering.

"That's too hot," Sokka says immediately. The water isn't scalding, but it's close, and the afternoon sun is already beating on Sokka's back. Maybe firebenders like it that steaming, but not Sokka. Cool water is perfectly acceptable most of the time in summer, whereas sauna-hot baths are generally better suited to winter. Still, right now Sokka wants the water more than warm in order to relax his tight and aching muscles.

"What a surprise," Katara mutters.

"How about this?" Zuko asks with a deep, slow breath in, and the water temperature ends up right about where Sokka wants it-- hot, but not too hot.

"Perfect," Sokka says enthusiastically.

Zuko leaves his hand in the water, which makes sense because the fountain water pours down steadily from above in a copious flow that will need to be continuously heated to keep the stationary pool this hot. Zuko turns his back to Sokka, giving him as much privacy as possible while staying so close. Sokka's pretty casual about nudity. He's thinner and less muscular than he'd like, but he's not scrawny like he used to be; he's turned into a strong and wiry kind of thin, all of which is visible once his pants are off, and he has nothing to be self-conscious about when the loincloth comes off either. Katara's seen him without clothes cause she's family, and Toph can probably sonar his naked body while practicing bending with Aang three miles off, and the rest of his friends are guys and don't care one way or another what he looks like. Zuko throws a minor variable into the equation, but Sokka's still fine with having him present, not least because he needs Zuko close to have the hot bath he's realized he really, really wants. Without hesitation he discards his shorts and climbs into the fountain, which is deliciously hot and starts immediately melting every sore muscle in his body. Zuko stays turned away, even when Sokka moans openly as he sinks down.

"How did I ever live without you?" he asks Zuko, and he leans back and closes his eyes, slipping under briefly. "Forget 'Not as Big a Jerk as You Could Have Been.' I hereby nominate you for 'Prisoner of the Year," Sokka says when he comes up for air, hot water dripping in his eyes and over his face.

Katara's glaring at them when Haru comes back with soap.

"You should probably scrub your face, you got blood smears on it," Haru offers.

"There is no part of me without blood smears," Sokka says, then glances down. "Almost no part. Zuko, can you keep the water like this indefinitely?"

Zuko's head turns--not enough to face Sokka or take a real look, just enough for Sokka to see him smile faintly. "Yeah, as long as you want."

"I see your ulterior motive in staying untied, and I accept it," Sokka tells him.

Zuko speaks over his shoulder. "Is washing normally done in the fountain?"

Sokka hums agreeably. "Well, we've only been here a few days. But yeah, it's convenient."

"It's just-- we also drink out of it?"

"The water's perfectly clean coming down, and that's where we grab the drinking water from. But if you watch the flow, it's also constantly cycling out of the pool," Sokka says.

Zuko chooses not to turn around and check out the flow right then.

"I guess so," Zuko says skeptically. Sokka was expecting it in the context of food hygiene, but Sokka knew Zuko would be a prissy guy somehow. Maybe the recent bad digestive experience has left him paranoid about potable water.

Sokka stretches out. "Forget the tea business. You should be somebody's manservant." Sokka lolls his head against the curving stone rim of the fountain. "You would be the best valet. Probably good money in it."

Zuko tips his head slightly forward to acknowledge the comment without really responding. Maybe Zuko has more complicated feelings about being disinherited than he let on earlier.

Haru brings Sokka his belated lunch, which he eats in the piping-hot fountain, and eventually he suds up and washes off, and next Haru brings him the clean clothes he asks for, and basically a good chunk of his afternoon feels like a spa day. Sokka gets out and sits naked on the other side of the fountain, away from Zuko, until the sun and warm air have dried him. Then he puts on his clean outfit, ventures into the garden and picks seven of the large, lilypad-like leaves off one of the conveniently located bushes to replenish his supply. Then Sokka goes into his room and leisurely jerks off, and then he goes back out to the terrace, where he's astonished to see Zuko sitting gagged but unbound and cross-legged by the firepit.

Zuko has his eyes closed, and he's keeping three separate fires going with his bending-- three separate midair _wheels_ of fire, each one two feet across and hollowly surrounding one of the rotisserie-mounted joints of meat. The flames of the wheel are oriented towards the meat, flickering inward all the way around like the meat is a magnet for the fire. The roasts will certainly cook evenly, and probably quickly too, and they'll barely need to rotate the rotisserie kebabs. Never underestimate the power of laziness, Sokka decides. Also, while Katara might hate Zuko, in the end she's a fairly practical person. Zuko remains in his meditation position, apparently not even noticing Sokka's rejoined them. Katara's sitting next to Zuko and using her water knife to cleanly slice a fourth batch of jerky out of what looks like a flank steak, and she shoots Sokka a look that dares him to say something. Sokka says nothing, only drags his guard-duty mattress ten feet out from the shadow of the pagoda roof onto the terrace. He's about to lie down for a nap when Katara clears her throat.

Sokka knows what she's going to say before she even opens her mouth. Katara's decided it's bath day, which she enforces regularly on all, but which will be a new experience for Haru, Teo and The Duke. Katara's smaller-scale butcher work has left her bloody only up to the forearms, but that's for sure enough to make her feel unclean. "Toph and I are going to take baths before dinner," Katara tells them. "And you guys should too."

"Sure," Haru says good-naturedly.

"Sounds good," Teo agrees.

"I don't wanna," The Duke says. "We fell in that pool the other day, that got us clean."

"Everybody's taking a bath," Katara says in a brisk and bossy cadence that brooks no argument, with the self-assurance of a girl who can force even Toph to bathe. Granted that might be because Katara will simply drench Toph repeatedly if she refuses. Katara and Toph had an epic waterbender-earthbender fight early on over the topic of washing, so fierce that Aang had to step in.

"I want Zuko to heat mine," Toph says, which causes an awkward silence. "And you won't look," Toph announces, "because I'll know if you do."

Zuko's gagged and can't verbalize an answer, but he rolls his eyes and vigorously shakes his head.

Zuko lets his midair rings of fire evaporate and extinguish in the air, and then he relights the ordinary cooking fires beneath each of the three roasts. Sokka ungags Zuko before he lets Toph lead Zuko to the fountain. Hopefully Zuko survives the experience. Katara takes over monitoring the cookfires and continues uniformly slicing up the jerky meat. Sokka and the rest of the guys head to one of the atriums on the opposite side of the pagoda, filled with flowers. So much for Sokka's nap.

Half an hour later, Toph shows up with wet hair and clean apparel and a still-breathing Zuko in tow, during which time Katara takes her turn in the fountain.

After Katara's finished, the terrace is once again open to the presence of guys, and although he's already freshly washed, Sokka heads back with Zuko, Haru, Teo, and The Duke. Katara and Toph take their turn waiting in the atrium or one of their rooms or somewhere, and Haru and Teo bathe together in a leisurely soak with Zuko sitting on the side heating the fountain. Like Katara, The Duke bathes in cool water on principle, though Katara did so out of a desire for privacy whereas The Duke is apparently simply taking an ethical stand against having a firebender involved in his life. Aang prefers to wash in the lake at the bottom of the canyon, because Aang is all about staying close to nature.

"Do you want a bath?" Sokka asks Zuko when the rest of them are finished, and Zuko nods.

"Okay, wait here," Sokka says, and he heads to the supply room off the terrace. Upon returning, Sokka produces not only Zuko's bottle of oil and change of clothes but also his swimming shorts, because who knows how modest Fire Nation royalty are or aren't. When Sokka hands over the swimming costume, the corners of Zuko's mouth turn up. Then they immediately turn down. Zuko probably couldn't conceal an emotion if his life depended on it.

Zuko's expression neutralizes. "Did you want me to stay partly dressed?" Zuko asks carefully, standing up and weighing the swimming trunks in his hand.

Sokka shakes his head and shrugs at the same time. "Get as naked as you want. But I thought you might want them, since, you know, we'll be sitting here."

Zuko's eyebrow rises. "In the fountain with me?"

"No! Just on the edge here," Sokka hastily assures him. "I meant-- I get the feeling you're not too comfortable with nudity in the Fire Nation," Sokka elaborates.

"What gave you that impression?" Zuko asks, untying his sash with swift, practiced motions. The sash is wrapped back to front, neatly twisted and then again pulled to the back, hiding the ends, and then it's off and folded in Zuko's hands.

"I don't know," Sokka says, thinking. "I guess how your clothes have so many different layers and like, a silly number of fastenings, and your formal outfits are so... high-necked and robey?"

"I see," Zuko says in the monotone he sometimes speaks in when he's calm, dropping his sash and the swimming costume to the ground. "Well. We're comfortable enough to bathe."

"Plus you've been so careful not to look at anyone naked," Sokka adds.

"I was just being polite," Zuko says as though he's been criticized. Zuko shucks off his overtunic, then pulls his shirt over his head. Zuko's curly-toed boots hit the stone by the fountain one by one, and as Zuko starts methodically unlacing his pants, his eyes a deliberate weight on Sokka's face, Sokka takes this as his cue to turn away.

Zuko bathes quickly, and twenty seconds after Sokka senses him rising and climbing out on the other side of the fountain Zuko walks back to Sokka's side, fully dressed except for his boots. Sokka double-takes. "You could have taken some time to dry off," Sokka tells him.

Zuko shakes his head once, smiling faintly, and Sokka realizes Zuko's hair, while still damp at the tips, is already dry and flowy again nearer his scalp. "I can dry myself fast."

"Oh," Sokka says. "Useful. Glad your gift's not being wasted," Sokka adds facetiously.

"And I didn't even kill any fish," Zuko says.


	4. Talking It Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. [Sinuous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinuous/pseuds/sinuous) drew [yet more exquisite art for this fic](https://i.imgur.com/2Lkzhvz.jpg)! This one is of Sokka and Zuko and Teo on the terrace during chapter 3. It is so vivid and colorful and lovely and I adore it so much!! And then [this one](https://i.imgur.com/NBLxj1M.png), which I mean, just... holy shit. His eyes. His expression. The angle. So beautiful and so damn hot. AAAAAAA.  
> 2\. Content warnings... nothing much. Some implicit reliving of trauma. Canon-typical stuff about Ozai being a bad parent. Oodles of dialogue.  
> 3\. References and contains fairly major spoilers for the ending of the comic _Zuko's Story_.  
> 

Sokka draws his comfortably spread knees up towards his chest, relaxing. "What is that scent?" Sokka asks him. "Your bath oil." 

Teo rolls in his chair over to Sokka and Zuko. The heavy shock of dark brown hair that usually bounces over Teo's forehead hangs long and straight and flat with water, and when Teo comes to a slow stop he pulls out his hair tie, pins it between his teeth to hold it, and begins drawing the hair on the crown of his head up into a damp version of his normal ponytail. 

"It's a um, blend of things," Zuko says, picking up his boots and perching on the edge of the fountain. "Kuromoji oil and clove oil and uh, something else, I forget. Uncle would know."

"It's nice," Sokka says, because the oil is nice, it smells woodsy like freshly cut trees and like cloves and also weirdly peppery, a lot like Zuko's cloak smelled. Definitely a masculine scent. Saying it's nice is probably the closest Sokka can come to publicly telling their prisoner he smells good, and Zuko gives him a soft look Sokka wouldn't have said Zuko's harsh, scarred face was capable of producing.

"My favorite--" Zuko begins, but he breaks off and looks up at the sound of approaching footsteps. 

Haru, having dressed and helped Teo dress, is returning from his mission to inform Toph and Katara that all the guys are done with baths and the terrace is once again safe for innocent female eyes and deviant seismic senses. Toph strolls over behind Haru, although Katara isn't with them. Still, Toph and Katara must have been just inside the pagoda for Haru to be returning so quickly. 

"Your favorite?" Sokka prompts when Zuko doesn't resume.

Aang sweeps in on his glider back onto the terrace, and all of a sudden everyone around is congregating by the fountain. Since the days he spent training with Master Piandao, Sokka's noticed Aang, Toph, and Katara often gravitating towards him as a hangout convergence point. Katara less so the past couple days, but hey. Discovering how much he was missed was a strange and flattering surprise, so much so that Sokka pretended not to understand because that was easier and more manly than trying to put feelings that big into words. Being reminded of their esteem is nice too. It's not that Sokka doesn't know his own worth, it's just that it's hard not to feel eclipsed by your friends when they're imbued with ancient mystical superpowers, and his three besties are off-the-charts powerful masters of their elements, because of course they are. 

Aang snaps his new glider closed into its pole and spins it twice, just because he can, before resting the rod against the nearest block of stone.

Zuko brushes off the terrace-dusty sole of one foot against the lower leg of his pants, then leans down and slips on his boot. "My favorite has yuzu oil, but the jug was too big to bring," Zuko says, speaking more quietly than before now that others have joined them.

"Oh yeah, I think we ate some dishes flavored with those," Sokka says, watching as Zuko repeats the dusting-off process with his other foot. Strange how easy Zuko is to talk to now, like he's just another one of the gang. Zuko's halting discomfiture hasn't disappeared, exactly, but it has faded some. "While we were in the Fire Nation."

"It would be hard not to," Zuko says, and without asking he picks up the gag and immerses its length in the fountain, then holds the cord up dripping and gently shakes it out. Sokka's tilted his head up and sideways to look, and Zuko's careful not to drip water onto him. Sokka's about to ask what he's doing when comprehension clicks-- after two days and nights in and out of Zuko's mouth, the fibers probably smell and taste like morning breath. "When they're in season."

"I think we had it on komodo chicken, on flying pheasant-fish, infused into custard, in a marmalade..." Sokka tries to think of other yuzu-flavored foods they ate. "Plus it's in ponzu sauce, right? I liked that, it was good stuff."

Zuko nods. Zuko holds the gag in his hands and blows slowly down every inch, a long measured breath with the apparent goal of heating it dry. Zuko strokes the soft rope between two fingers before arranging the length of in long snakelike loops on the fountain ledge beside him. "They make a, uh. In the palace the chef makes spring rolls flavored with a yuzu and honey glaze. I bet you'd like them."

"Something gave you the impression there's a food Snoozles doesn't like?" Toph asks, razzing Sokka as usual, and Zuko quirks his lips at her.

"Hey, I don't like things," Sokka says. "I don't like Aang food. No offense, buddy."

"None taken," Aang says, harmonious and buoyant. "That sounds really good, Zuko. Way too much Fire Nation food was meat-based."

"Yeah... we do that," Zuko says, slipping back into awkwardness. Zuko seems especially hesitant around Aang. Maybe because it's Aang's stamp of approval he needs more than anyone else's. Or maybe it's because for a long time Aang was nothing more to him than prey to net. 

"I'm a meat guy at heart, but if the spring rolls are made by the same cook who did the fruit tart, I would eat them sight unseen," Sokka says.

The Duke approaches noisily from behind them, his quarterstaff rapping with each step against the terrace stone, presumably coming back from one of his frequent self-appointed perimeter patrols. The Duke adjusts the position of his oversized helmet, which is constantly slipping down and probably interfering with his vision. "Why aren't you minding the fires, smokestinker?"

Sokka winces. They've kind of let it go a lot, because The Duke is really young and probably has some really good reasons to hate the Fire Nation, but--

"In his defense, he took the shortest bath of any of us," Sokka says.

Aang looks startled, as though he's noticing The Duke's verbal aggression for the first time. "No more firebender slurs against Zuko," Aang says sternly to The Duke, the Avatar laying down the law.

"I was about to get back to it," Zuko says with his lips slightly apart, glancing from The Duke towards the dwindling cooking fires Katara set up before everyone began taking their mandatory baths.

Sokka thrusts an arm in front of Zuko's shins, commanding him silently to wait, a motion of symbolic protection. The gesture would be more normal if they were sitting next to each other, cause then Sokka'd be flinging his hand in front of Zuko's chest, but either way, Sokka gets the point across, and Zuko remains on the fountain ledge. 

"Hang on," Sokka says, at the same time The Duke barks at Zuko, "Quiet!" 

"I don't like that the firebender's been freed," The Duke says, switching his quarterstaff from one small calloused hand to the other. The kid hardly puts his staff down except to eat, and he sleeps wrapped around it the same way Zuko slept with his swords in his arms. "I didn't sign on for this. But if we're going to let him work, he should stay on task."

Satisfied that Zuko's not leaving, Sokka drops his arm. Something needs to be said-- in fact, it's long past time. "You are so mean to him," Sokka says to The Duke. "Meaner than Katara, and that's saying something." 

Haru side-eyes him, totally Katara's little pet. Haru prefers Katara to him and thus consistently sides with her, and that's fine, but Sokka suspects Haru has a crush on her to boot. "What. I'd say it to her face," Sokka says to Haru.

"Firebenders are the enemy," The Duke reminds them, as though any of them could have forgotten. "There's this little thing called a war on."

"So Zuko's a firebender, so what," Toph says bluntly. "Not every firebender is automatically our enemy. There's some guy named Jeong-Jeong. And Aang's a firebender too."

"That's different, he's the Avatar," The Duke argues. "He has to be a firebender."

"Like any of us get a choice," Toph says mildly. 

Teo shakes his head. "I think --"

The Duke isn't as wary of Toph as Sokka's learned to be, and he ignores Teo entirely, interrupting. "When did you all become Fire Nation sympathizers?" The Duke demands.

"Tui and La, call me a Fire Nation sympathizer again," Sokka says incredulously.

"What are you gonna do, beat me up? You'd just prove me right," The Duke says, pushing his helmet up again. The words are a challenge, a flourish of bravado married to an undercurrent of nerves, like The Duke really thinks a violent reprisal is a possibility for throwing out this insult.

Sokka doubles over where he's sitting, slamming his legs down flat to the stone of the terrace, because the kid is equal parts uproarious and messed up in the head. " _Beat you up?_ Are you serious?" Sokka shakes his head, but he manages to refrain from bringing up the fact that he's got six years, probably sixteen inches, and at least fifty pounds on The Duke. "Buddy. No. Your logic is flawless-- resorting to violence would mean I couldn't successfully argue my point, and I can always successfully argue my point. But even if I couldn't, I wouldn't settle a difference of opinion with force. See this is how this works-- you accuse me of being a Fire Nation sympathizer again, and I hotly and forcefully deny it, and then we've established we disagree on this one point. That's it." Sokka takes a breath. "Honestly, The Duke, I think you spent a little too much time with Jet."

"No, you didn't spend enough with him," The Duke shoots back, and he walks off annoyed.

Sokka's prepared to launch into an insightful commentary about how the Fire Nation is the ultimate example of the problems with jumping to the use of force, but obviously mission aborted. Sokka stares after The Duke, dumbfounded. "He sure is..." Sokka trails off, searching for the right word. "Willful. He's the youngest of all of us, I thought we would have peer-pressured him into softening up by now."

"I like him," Toph says. "He has the courage of his convictions."

Still gripped by disbelief and not at all over it yet, Sokka pushes himself a couple of feet up off the terrace, just enough to settle on the fountain's edge next to Zuko. "He's nine years old and he basically just proposed I fight him," Sokka says wonderingly.

"Age is just a number. I'm three years younger than you and we all know I'd kick your ass in two seconds," Toph says.

"Hey, you underestimate the power of Boomerang at your peril." Sokka crosses his arms. "And The Duke's not a bender, so no unfair advantage."

"I'm gonna go talk to him," Teo says, and he spins his wheels and zooms off before any of them can respond.

"It's not unfair, it's natural," Toph says peacefully, predictably smug in her certainty she can kick any non-bender's ass, or at least his.

"I'm almost twice his age, he should take my opinion more seriously," Sokka grouses. "Madness. Jet was a real asshole."

"He was charismatic though," Toph says.

"He was a lunatic," Sokka says sourly, because Jet remains a sore subject, and though it's a point of pride that Sokka figured out Jet's bullshit artistry eons faster than Aang and Katara, it's still depressing to remember how thoroughly they were taken in by his stupid charm and tapestry of expertly convincing lies, and the way he made you feel like a valuable, even key member of his team. "And how would you know, you met him for like ten minutes." 

Toph shrugs. "It doesn't take a genius to know he was a captivating guy--"

"Yeah no kidding, I figured him out and was taken captive," Sokka says emphatically. "Literally!"

"--I mean, it sounds like he ran a murder gang of child soldiers out of a forest on nothing but pep talks and some intense bonding. Maybe he was a lousy person, but he was obviously likeable and persuasive when he wasn't all brainwashed." 

"It doesn't matter," Sokka says, adding a trifle indignantly, "Aang's the Avatar and I'm plenty charismatic, we should be able to get The Duke out of that violence-and-blasting-jelly mindset."

"Your shirt's on inside out," Toph says, and when Sokka glances down she says, "Made you look."

"Why, you --"

Toph flashes a wolfish grin, never lifting her head, her eyes resting sightlessly on the ground. "And Jet must have been hot stuff, because Katara's heart rate spikes whenever his name comes up."

Sokka's aggrieved by the implication. "Uh, probably because she has pretty mixed feelings, he did kidnap me and try to kill all those Earth Kingdom people, even if he changed."

"Nope, cause I asked Katara if she was attracted to him and she lied and said no. They kissed and did stuff, you know. Clothes-off stuff. I tried to find out how far they went but she started refusing to answer." Toph shakes her head sadly.

"Ugh, Toph, seriously?!" Though Sokka teased Katara mercilessly about Jet being her boyfriend, hearing that the two of them actually did spirits knows what crosses all kinds of oogy skin-crawling boundaries. "I did not need to know that," Sokka says, more irate this time. Sokka's aware of Zuko sitting statue-still beside him, and then Zuko stands up.

"Well, uhh, back to it," Zuko murmurs, and something about his muttery low-profile exit from the conversation gives Sokka pause. Like Zuko's trying to be inconspicuous about making himself scarce.

"Yeah, that's... probably not our business," Haru says of the unwanted scoop on Jet and Katara, an oddly mopey expression on his face. Sokka gives him a hard second look, because it's totally a crush, and spirits, does everyone have to like Katara like that? Aang, Jet, Haru... Sokka puts it out of his mind for reasons of sanity preservation. 

Sokka watches their prisoner head over to the fire pit. Zuko has a graceful lope, sort of like a polar leopard. Azula moved elegantly too when they fought with her in the caverns. Little Fire Nation princes and princesses probably get childhood instruction on how to gesture graciously and walk extra-attractively, the better to develop into full-grown fancypants monarchs who effortlessly hold people's attention. It's the only convincing explanation for Zuko's lithe and sexy walk. Sokka kind of wants to jump him, knock him to the ground, sit on his hips and suck on his neck.

Sokka's dick twitches in approval of the direction his thoughts are straying, and he shakes himself out of it before his impending boner has a chance to really get going.

Aang too is studying Zuko as Zuko walks away, and Aang's face says he's far away and hasn't even been listening to them, which might be for the best because he would not have been pleased by this turn of the discussion any more than Sokka is, though for different reasons. Toph knows how to get under everyone's skin when she's in the mood. Thankfully, she's not often in an obnoxious mood or she'd be a pretty crummy friend. When Katara turns up, Toph will probably recount this conversation word for word, the better to annoy and embarrass her with. Usually Toph only gets this bad when she's sleep-deprived. Sokka has no idea what her deal is today.

"It makes sense she'd be sad about him-- about what happened," Sokka concedes. "Maybe, I mean, we still don't know."

"I'm going to go watch Zuko firebend," Aang says abruptly, and he's definitely distracted by something.

"Good idea," Sokka agrees, surprised by Aang's initiative and glad for the change of topic. Aang rises and walks away, his face troubled.

Zuko's sitting before his circular midair fires in the lotus position, the same way Aang always sits to meditate, and Aang joins him like that. Zuko's eyes are closed, and he makes no acknowledgement of Aang's presence that Sokka can tell. Sitting a few feet apart, with Aang's gaze glued to Zuko, the two of them look the parts of teacher and student, and for a moment Sokka can totally see it, like he's peering into the future. And great, now he's Aunt Wu.

"I'm gonna blame it on exhaustion," Sokka says aloud, earning a weird look from Haru. "You know what I want right now more than anything? A nap," Sokka tells Haru and Toph, the only ones remaining by the fountain, and he gets up to leave. "Gran-Gran's blubbered seal jerky almost edges out a nap, but I can wait for the boar-q-pine jerky, Katara knows what she's doing, and it's probably going to be pretty great." Sokka strolls away. "So right now-- nap." 

"You did good today, Mister Charisma," Toph says, pairing this modest but sincere compliment with what might be her most mocking nickname yet.

Sokka glances over his shoulder, smirking. He can't stay annoyed at Toph. "I'm incredible, you don't have to say it. Though I do enjoy hearing it..."

"Eh, let's not vastly overstate the case," Toph says with an eyeroll, and Haru smiles slightly at their back-and-forth and that's that.

As Sokka's walking in the direction of the pagoda overhang he stops to gaze a little longer at Zuko's strange wheels of fire, because they're like nothing he's ever seen before, and who knows when he'll have occasion to see anything like them again. The ribs are looking good, and Katara already has a pot of belly fat melting into liquid lard, and Toph's constructed some of her stone bridges, arcs with flat top surfaces, on which to spread out the thinly-sliced meat for jerky and pemmican.

As Sokka's loitering, Zuko opens his eyes and looks up and around. His eyes land on Aang first, then Sokka. Zuko glances between the two of them and gestures vaguely sideways, sort of over his shoulder, towards the side of the pagoda with the garden and their hidden latrine. "Actually, I need to..."

"Sure, go ahead," Aang says cheerfully. All traces of Aang's previous pensiveness are gone as he gets to his feet, and his plans to watch Zuko firebend have apparently already been forgotten. Aang is as changeable as the wind, and spirits love him, as flaky as an upscale Earth Kingdom pastry. "I'm going to go find Katara."

"I'll be right back," Zuko says, rising. Zuko makes no hand or arm movements to extinguish the cooking fires. When he ceases concentrating and stands up, the flames all simply sizzle out and dissolve into the air in three crackling arrays of rising sparks. Which must be because the fires aren't fueled by anything except Zuko's bending, so there's nothing to put out, because all the expenditure of effort lies in willing them into existence. Sokka isn't sure, though, it's just the clearest logical guess. There's so much about bending, regardless of element, that Sokka probably won't ever understand.

Haru glances over from the fountain as Zuko heads for the trees, then returns to his conversation with Toph. Sokka takes the opportunity to inspect the roasts, because he can't get a decent look at the meat when the three-dimensional fire rings are live. 

Sokka glances sideways and watches Zuko walk away for another moment, then turns and follows him. Sokka can move stealthily when he chooses to, and he makes sure to keep his boots silent as they connect with the stone. The chat he's about to initiate is one he'd prefer to have far from away from everyone else, and if Zuko hears Sokka's footfalls behind him he might halt too early.

"Zuko," he calls when Zuko is nearing the corner of the pagoda terrace, and Zuko stops immediately and looks back, his face unsurprised. Maybe Zuko sensed Sokka trailing him even if he didn't react. Zuko rests a hand against the side of the pagoda as though for balance as Sokka approaches. Sokka draws close, closer than arm's reach and well into Zuko's personal space, near enough for Zuko's attention to be unerringly fastened on him. Even though they're alone, a far distance from everyone hanging around the fountain and the fire pit, Sokka speaks furtively. "Listen, if you need an extra few minutes, we're not going to come in after you or anything."

"Oh," Zuko says blankly (Sokka reminds himself that Zuko is tired), and Sokka gets to watch Zuko process Sokka's meaning in real time. Even operating on little sleep, Zuko makes the connection fast; Zuko's eyes widen at the implication, and he gets tongue-tied. "I don't think-- that's not really a conducive location-- I mean, it doesn't smell that bad, at least not compared to the head in a ship, but --"

"Earthbender waste management," Sokka says brightly, because having Toph around really makes a difference. "Don't travel without one."

Zuko's gaze flickers over Sokka's shoulder and back as though it's occurred to him he doesn't want anyone overhearing this conversation either. "Uh, still, there's not exactly a lot of privacy."

"There's no privacy ever with Toph around," Sokka informs him, in case full comprehension of the situation with Toph hasn't yet sunk in, and Sokka shrugs. "Suit yourself."

Zuko definitely looks uncomfortable. "She's what, thirteen?"

"Twelve," Sokka says bluntly.

"That's..." Zuko obviously has no idea how to finish his sentence.

"Disconcerting," Sokka fills in for him. "Tell me about it. But it's a fact of life on Team Avatar. You'll either get used to it, or be really, uh... pent up." 

Zuko blinks rapidly twice, almost like he's flinching. "I appreciate the offer. Suggestion," Zuko hurriedly corrects himself.

"Sure," Sokka says. "Just trying to be, y'know, decent."

"Thanks," Zuko says, like he doesn't know what else to say.

Sokka flashes a smile at him and turns to stroll back to the terrace proper. Casting himself down on the thin blanket-covered mattress he shoved into the sunshine earlier, Sokka pillows his head on his arm. Despite Sokka's suggestion, Zuko returns to the fire pit promptly, resumes his meditative sit, and relights the complicated midair cooking fires with a few sweeping spirals of his hand.

Sokka's mind and body are both ready for rest, and he drops off quickly. Sokka drowses, waking up periodically, semi-aware of the others' conversations and comings and goings a little ways away on the terrace. Sokka opens his eyes now and then, and Zuko's by the fire pit each time, always with his eyes closed. No one gags him again. Katara and Aang eventually rejoin the group.

The terrace smells divine, of roasting and smoking meat and melting fat. Sokka can sleep especially soundly when the air smells like a sumptuous meal he'll soon be eating and has zero fear of missing, and although he stirs a few times due to the afternoon light and noise around him, he only really rouses when Katara at last announces dinner. Tonight wasn't Katara's night to cook, but there's no doubt in Sokka's mind that with multiple cooking projects to manage, she assumed the responsibility of overseeing them anyway. Sokka stretches and sits up slowly. He's half-hard, but he got himself off just a couple hours before, and it'll go away if he ignores it. His stomach is growling and hunger takes precedence over arousal. As he's walking his hair flaps against the sides of his head, and when Sokka runs his hand through his hair, he realizes his wolftail tie must have come loose during his nap.

Sokka goes over to the fire pit and sits down next to Zuko. At some point while Sokka was napping, Zuko dissipated the wheels of flame and replaced them with woodless but otherwise normal cooking fires, plus the usual thriving campfire they light to be able to see after nightfall, though this too is now bizarrely fuelless.

Katara hands Sokka a thin stone plate full of incredible-smelling meat, which he spends one and a half seconds examining with pride and pleasure and a watering mouth before he rips the first glorious mouthful off the bone. Dinner is slow-roasted tenderloin dusted with cracklings, spare ribs, baby back ribs, and a small portion of rice and carrots, which Sokka skips because they're mostly for Aang's benefit anyway. Even sore from the work and mentally muddled by his late nap, Sokka feels pretty awesome. And if the meat isn't quite as sweet and succulent as it'd have been from an immediate kill, it's still rich and juicy, tender with youth and patient preparation, and with plenty of seconds and thirds available everyone has the rare freedom to eat as much as they want. No one talks for a good fifteen minutes while they stuff their faces, which is a kind of compliment.

Zuko maintains the fires through dinnertime without resting or complaining even once, and he eats ribs while staring at the licking flames, keeping them steady and controlled. It's among the more unusual acts of multi-tasking Sokka's witnessed. The people of the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation all religiously use chopsticks to eat basically anything and everything, but Zuko appears comfortable enough eating with his hands. He's probably still just glad to be feeding himself. 

The cooking fires stay remarkably stable while Zuko eats, but they still flutter and contort like any fire, and Sokka notices the points of flame mostly flare up and evaporate and renew together, all in time with the rhythm of Zuko's breathing. It's kind of cool, and like going from sopping wet to dressably dry in three seconds, it's a much more productive use of Zuko's bending than trying to set innocent Water Tribesmen on fire.

Zuko continues to be allowed to walk to the grove of trees alone, Sokka notes, and Zuko returns faithfully, again refraining from staying overlong.

That evening in the waning light, they're mostly enjoying a period of full-bellied, contented silence in a circle around the fire pit. Katara has Teo peel up the cooling jerky from the thin cooking rocks and store it carefully. Sokka stands at Teo's elbow for a moment to examine the meaty fruits of their labor. The jerky's holding together quite well considering Katara cut mostly against the grain, which is her preference for less of a jaw workout, and the end product looks beautifully leathery. Sokka tests a slice by bending it, and the piece cracks nicely but holds together. If Sokka weren't freshly stuffed full of deliciousness already he'd want to start in on some immediately. 

Haru's stacked additional firewood nearby, and Katara adds a log to each of Zuko's small ground-based blazes, making the preparations to keep the pair of cookfires smoldering overnight. The next batch of lard is already being rendered, and the meat for the pemmican needs to be slow cooked even longer than the jerky, in order to be successfully ground into beautiful meat powder tomorrow. Whoever's rotated onto guard duty can monitor the fires, Sokka supposes, except maybe for Toph.

Haru takes Katara's cue that Zuko's finished firebending for them for the night, and Haru walks around Zuko to tie him back up.

As Haru's gently winding the rope around his wrists, Zuko looks up at them. "Will you leave me untied to sleep tonight?"

"That's kind of the time we most need you tied up, because the rest of us need to sleep too," Haru says, not unsympathetically.

Haru ties a grievously basic square knot; Sokka really needs to teach the other guys some more functional sailor's knots. Zuko stares balefully at the ground like it's wronged him. "I won't do anything besides sleep."

"You're lying," Toph accuses suddenly, and all eyes turn to Zuko. Haru, having finished and straightened up, freezes and stares at Zuko from behind.

A flash of agonized realization passes like lightning over Zuko's face, there and gone. "I won't do anything besides sleep and stretch and jerk off," Zuko amends hastily and more than a little painfully, and he rolls his eyes skyward after this admission as though to ask for forbearance in his humiliation, then lowers his eyes again.

Katara gapes. Teo laughs, awkwardly. The Duke doesn't even blink, and he doesn't look nearly as confused as a nine-year-old orphan probably should at a slang reference to jacking it. Awareness of sex for one was probably the third thing he picked up from Jet's Freedom Fighters, right after an ultra-concentrated dose of youthful belligerence and a severe case of Fire Nation hatesies. It checks out, living in the woods with a bunch of older boys plus Smellerbee. Toph's not the only one who's grown up really fast.

"Now we have the truth," Toph says, satisfied, and she goes back to dedicatedly picking her toes.

Sokka holds his tongue at first, because pointing out he offered Zuko extra time in their makeshift bathroom earlier will probably not improve matters for anyone.

"Sooo." Aang leaps up and grabs the oven mitts, then the open kettle they generally use to cook the rice, his face red. "I think it's my turn to wash the pot."

Sokka almost laughs, because even though washing dishes is an easier task for their two waterbenders than for any of the rest of them, Aang hates scouring the pots and pans, and it's definitely not his turn tonight.

"Your great respect for other people's privacy continues, I see," Sokka tells Toph. While they never directly discuss her voyeurism, and Sokka blows off her occasional loaded comments, he's comfortable remarking on her more general surveillance and minor invasions of privacy. Maybe because everyone else assumes it's all jokes. 

Toph licks a fingertip and rubs between the two littlest toes on her right foot. "Hey, you all wanted me to let you know the first time he lied, and I did, so you're welcome."

Haru deliberately steps away from Zuko, sitting back down on the far side of the fire with Aang, plainly disavowing any responsibility for deciding on Zuko's bonds one way or the other. To be fair, the subject is a fraught one.

"Let's let him go," Sokka says resolutely of Zuko. "We've kept him tied up for three days. There comes a time for mercy."

Katara looks aghast, her cheeks flushed pink, though not as deeply as Zuko's and Aang's, and she finds her voice to shout at Sokka as he gets up and walks behind Zuko. "No! You can't be serious! We're not letting Zuko free to-- _pleasure_ himself."

"And sleep!" Zuko interjects miserably. His good cheek is visibly scarlet in the fading light. "Mostly I just want to sleep, I swear by Agni."

"Be quiet, charspitter," The Duke says.

"The Duke," Teo chides.

"Yeah, we are, we're not monsters," Sokka says to Katara, and he puts his fingers on the cord around Zuko's wrists. "Men need to, Katara. It feels like we're gonna die if we don't. Or we just wish we were dead." Okay, maybe he's exaggerating slightly. "It _aches_." Sokka doesn't miss a beat. "Teo, Haru, back me up."

Teo shrugs like he's surprised, but he answers easily and with his usual delicacy of wording, a half-cheeky smile playing around his lips. "It's not something I ignore."

Haru looks up, his face drawn and embarrassed like he'd rather not have been put on the spot. "Uh. Yeah. It can be uncomfortable."

"See that?" Sokka says to Katara. Sokka refocuses on Zuko. "Just for the night, we're gonna tie you back up in the morning. I think that's a fair compromise?"

Katara's still blushing hard, but her blue eyes blaze. "Stop it, Sokka! What do you think, Aang?"

"I'm not getting involved in this conversation," Aang says, backing away with the nearly-empty kettle of rice clutched in his mitt-covered hands, but then he stops and sighs. "No, I do have an opinion. Stop, Sokka."

Sokka gives Aang a reproving look, but he takes his hands away without untying Zuko's wrists and disapprovingly crosses his arms. "Toph can tell if he's lying. He said he won't do anything."

"You couldn't tell when Azula was lying," Katara points out, frowning at Toph. "What makes you so sure you know when Zuko is?"

"I'm not like Azula!" Zuko protests.

"I can tell," Toph insists loudly. "I tested his lying the morning we brought him back. He means every word he's said about having changed."

"Maybe he's just that good a liar," Katara says.

"He's really, really not," Toph says. "Try talking to him for five minutes."

"Oh, I did," Katara snaps. "Let's just say it wasn't productive. Cause I agree, he didn't lie, he just had a violent change of heart three minutes later."

"It doesn't matter that he's sincere. Given all he's done to the four of us, we need to agree on whether he gets untied," Aang says to Toph, not particularly happily.

"I don't know, consensus seems like a big ask," Sokka says, shooting a doubtful look at Aang. "Unfairly big."

Aang bites his lip, his gray eyes troubled. "I know, but I think it's important."

Well, it's out of Sokka's hands, then. Sokka slaps Zuko on the back. "Sorry Zuko. But hey, this is your most humanizing moment yet."

"Please, tell us more mildly embarrassing things about yourself," Toph says, laying on the sarcasm thick. "I'm sure everyone will see you as a person in no time."

"Actually, Zuko," Aang says seriously, setting down the pot, "I don't know about anyone else, but I'd like to hear how you've changed. What changed you."

"How you think you've changed," Katara corrects. "Good idea, I _love_ a good story."

Zuko looks up at her, stung but silent.

"Oh yeah, I love a good interrogation," The Duke says.

Sokka nods, because getting Zuko talking to the group is probably a smart idea, one he can get on board with. "I too would like to know why you dropped out of Fire Nation charm school," Sokka says. Sokka should have thought of this himself. Assuming Zuko doesn't have more damning truths to get off his chest about ways he's made their lives harder and more dangerous... which is actually kind of a big assumption now that Sokka contemplates the possibilities, and yikes-- this could actually go very badly.

"Will you start at the beginning?" Aang requests politely.

"Uh, some of what... some of what brought me here is kind of personal," Zuko says, clearly dismayed by Aang's proposal. "Not stuff I ... talk... about." Zuko falters over saying 'talk' like the word is barely in his vocabulary, or like he's not completely sure of the meaning of the term.

"We're not going to judge you," Sokka says. "Probably. At least, not half of us."

"You don't have to tell us about anything you don't want to," Aang assures Zuko, clasping his hands in his lap expectantly, fingers laced with his pinkies extended. Sokka looks at him curiously-- Aang usually only poses his hands like that when he's meditating or trying to commune with his past selves.

Zuko remains reluctant. "I don't know where to start either," Zuko says slowly. "I mean... you don't want my whole life story, do you? What's the beginning?"

"Well, you stopped chasing us after the North Pole for some reason," Sokka says, glancing at Aang and raising his eyebrows to see if Aang agrees, and Aang nods. "That was a surprising turn. Maybe start there?"

"Okay," Zuko says, and he takes another long pause before he begins. "After Katara knocked me out in the snow, I woke up on your bison, and I burned through the rope you tied me with and went after Zhao."

"You're not very bright, are you," Katara says.

Zuko looks at her in confusion.

Katara says, like he's stupid, "You _burned through the rope_. Thanks for confirming you need something stronger to keep you restrained. Anything else you want to confess about what you can do?"

Zuko flushes, and at first his voice comes out full of suppressed anger. "I'm a firebender, of course I can burn through a rope! But I came to you because I want to be here." Zuko turns his focus to Aang, forcefully intense, even a little desperate. "I want to help you."

"Whatever," Katara says. "Toph, could you metalbend a chain to hold him?"

"I could, but he's been tied up for three days and hasn't tried to leave, so I don't see the point," Toph says with a shrug.

Katara huffs.

"I can break an inch-thick chain with a kick, Katara," Zuko says irritably before he takes a breath and his tone evens out. The way he manages his smoldering anger has a few recognizable patterns. "But if you need to chain me up to feel safe, go ahead. Make it thick and heavy or thin like a necklace-- either way I won't break it. I want you to see that I've changed, and I'm sorry for the things I've done, and you can trust me now."

"I'm telling you, he's not lying," Toph says, blinking her filmy eyes. "You all know what I can do. Why is it you'll listen to me about everything else, but not Candles? Could it be that you're just persistently mad at him past the point of reason?"

Katara stares open-mouthed at Toph like she's never been so appalled. "You gave him _a nickname?!_ "

"Everybody gets a nickname, Sweetness," Toph says blandly.

"I can't believe you would do that," Katara says, sounding disproportionately hurt. "He is not our friend."

"He is my friend, actually," Toph says, firm for all that she's casual about it, and everyone looks at her, Zuko included. Again Zuko gets that frozen expression like he's onstage in a spotlight with no idea what to do or say.

"But-- he burned your feet!" Katara says like she's shocked. Which she probably is.

"That was an accident, and as payback he got a rock-bruise on him the size of a jackalope," Toph says. "He said he's sorry, and so he's forgiven. See how easy that was?"

"If you were menaced by him for months on end like we were, you might feel differently," Katara retorts. "If he ever tied you up and threatened you, or hurt someone you care about--"

"Guys, let's let Zuko talk," Aang interrupts, and Katara turns away from Toph and folds her arms defensively. "Keep going with your story," Aang instructs Zuko, and he gives Katara a meaningful glance. "We won't interrupt again."

Zuko pauses, then resumes. "And-- thank you for saving my life," he says haltingly. "In the North Pole. I know I would have died if you hadn't brought me with you."

Aang nods once, as though this choice was standard and unremarkable. In Sokka's opinion, dragging Zuko out of that snowbank was one of the craziest stunts Aang's ever pulled, and in the single not-quite-a-year Sokka's known him, Aang's made a truly stunning number of eccentric, wacky, childish, and/or highly questionable decisions.

"That can't be why you stopped chasing us," Sokka says.

"It's not," Zuko confirms readily. "So, I ran through the Northern Water city after Zhao. He'd tried to kill me, he blew up my ship with me on it. It's why I was all bruised and cut up at the time."

"I remember you looking really bad," Sokka agrees. He's trying to be supportive, but it comes out more like an insult than he intends.

Zuko glances at him but lets the unintentional jibe pass. "Zhao and I fought and I was winning, but then this spirit-- there was this giant dark blue water spirit and it grabbed at us. I rolled away and it picked up Zhao." Zuko's voice turns bitter and his face hardens. "I yelled to him to take my hand, and I got to watch him decide he hated me so much he'd rather let a spirit drown him than accept my help."

Aang looks momentarily troubled, and small wonder, since the ocean spirit hijacked his body for its little joyride of ship-slapping vengeance.

"Wow," Teo says. "What'd you do to make him hate you that much?"

Zuko bristles. "Nothing! Well." Zuko glances at Toph. "I beat him in an Agni Kai. A firebenders' duel. But he hated me before that."

"You didn't tell us Zhao was dead," Sokka says, quietly thunderstruck and careful not to let on. That Zhao is dead is news to him, and it's news that leaves him feeling unexpectedly empty. Yue is long since avenged, then, and not by him, if the ocean spirit drowned Zhao in the North Pole. The news should be affirming; it's not like Sokka's been in any kind of position lately to see justice done upon a highly placed Fire Nation naval officer. Instead, Sokka feels a bit numb, drained of feelings.

"I mean... you didn't ask," Zuko says blankly. "I would have told you if you asked. I didn't think it was important enough to bring up."

Well... one horrible evildoer down, two to go? "You would have moved up the bad guy list," Sokka tells him. "Might have gone up too far to be considered for leniency."

Zuko looks at Sokka like he makes no sense.

"Why did you rescue me from Zhao?" Aang asks.

"I didn't want Zhao to get credit for capturing you," Zuko admits. "I wanted to catch you myself, so I could go home."

"Let the record reflect that _I called it_ ," Sokka says smugly, although he realizes as he says it that he's maybe not helping Zuko's cause by celebrating his own rightness. Sokka quickly tries to think of a question he could ask to compensate, something that might help Zuko make his case rather than detracting from his efforts, and inspiration only takes a couple of seconds to hit. "Okay, so why did you try to save Zhao after he tried to kill you?"

"I... we were enemies, but I wouldn't wish that on even an enemy. I don't know why, really. Just instinct I guess." Zuko glances at Toph again as if expecting her to stop him, but she says nothing, so he continues. "Anyway, Uncle and I made it out of the North Pole, but then my sister tried to trick us into returning to the Fire Nation as prisoners. We fought her and escaped and went deep into the Earth Kingdom after that, as refugees. We cut off our topknots." Zuko glances around at them, his gaze lingering longest on Aang and passing over Aang's smoothly shorn arrowed head. "I know it probably doesn't seem this way to you, but that's a big deal where I'm from."

"You look loads better now," Sokka says. (Did he really just say that? Urg, he must fix this.) "The mostly-shaved thing made you look like a freak." (Nailed it.)

Zuko ignores these assessments despite Sokka's undeniable wisdom. 

"No, I know it's a really big deal, Kuzon told me all about the meaning of topknots," Aang tells Zuko.

Zuko nods acknowledgement. "I met a lot of people. Some were kind to us. I met a woman who... well, it doesn't matter. Uncle and I went our separate ways for a while--"

"Wait, tell us about your lady friend," Haru says playfully.

"She wasn't my lady friend," Zuko snaps. "Ugh, you sound like Uncle." Zuko takes a breath and seems to recover a portion of his equanimity, though he remains grim. "I was going to say she was burned. Scarred. Like me."

"Oh. Sorry," Haru says, sincere as Haru always is. Sokka's rarely known anyone as bland and sincere and decent as Haru, and he means that in the nicest possible way.

(The guy's mustache should go, though, and Sokka thinks so not because he's jealous of Haru's plentiful options for facial hair, but because the mustache is messing up an otherwise really nice face. Haru's proud of his awful side-drooper, though, and Sokka's not going to rain on his festival by telling him the soul patch is great, but the mustache rises almost to the level of a war crime or Zuko's scar. And okay, maybe Sokka's slightly jealous. He has only the barest lines of a mustache coming in, thin and faint, nothing he can do anything with yet, and a couple of times a week he scrapes the fuzz off with his jawblade. But why not a nice goatee? Everyone looks good with a goatee.)

Zuko opens his mouth again, but Toph kicks Zuko's ankle to stop him before he can pick up where he left off. "Wait, you're scarred? Where?"

"Yes, around my left eye," Zuko says, and though the words come out evenly Sokka imagines he can hear suffering in them, like every word is a fresh cut.

"Ohh," Toph says. "That makes a lot of sense."

"How does it make sense?" Haru asks.

"When you guys look at him, your eyes flick back and forth a lot," Toph says.

Sokka shakes his head, aghast as always by how much Toph can _tell_ about them, even if she sometimes lacks the context for their physical quirks. "You can tell how our eyes flick?"

"At first I thought it was just because you were scared of him, because he made your heartbeats go crazy the other day when he walked up behind Appa," Toph explains. "But I kept noticing the twitchy eye movements after everyone's pulses went back to baseline. Then it kept happening. You're all still doing it."

"Toph, racing pulses are not the kind of thing you just announce willy-nilly," Sokka says. "That's private, how many times do I have to tell you."

Toph blows an amused raspberry through her lips. "Who cares? His heart was pounding too, and he was more nervous than all of you put together."

"How can you see our eyes but not his scar?" Teo asks.

"Because movement is really noticeable, I guess," Toph says idly, stretching her hands out to either side and deliberately pressing her palms to the stone, spreading and flattening her fingers. "I knew he's missing part of his ear, and his eyes are a little asymmetrical, but that didn't seem like enough to make you all so weird about looking at him. I figured it had to be that though. I guess-- are we talking about those tiny little wrinkles?"

No one immediately responds, and a few consternation lines appear in Toph's forehead. "I've perceived a burn scar before, at least kind of. The skin was melted and lumpy and kind of pitted." Toph sounds surprisingly distressed by not being able to view Zuko properly. "Why can't I see yours?"

The ugliness is mostly from discoloration, Sokka thinks but does not say. Similar to how he allows her to cling to his arm for a sense of security on Appa, Sokka tries to act as Toph's eyes when they're up in the air or there's something in the vicinity she can't sonar, but it's one hundred percent not his place to pipe up with that information in this conversation. Besides, Sokka's not that mean.

Zuko volunteers nothing further either. As Toph speaks, Zuko's thighs lift slightly and squeeze together like he's unconsciously trying to have as little of his body pressed against the marble slab as possible. Sokka's doubts Zuko even realizes he's doing it. Zuko's expression too, as he stares at Toph, says he's apprehensive about the idea of Toph inspecting him closely through the resonance of stone. Or maybe he's just uncomfortable with having his appearance discussed.

"Maybe you think you can see them, but you can really only see them if they're a certain kind," Aang suggests to Toph.

"Yeah, it's those lines. It's not lumpy, it's mostly just red," The Duke says into the silence when Sokka offers no further description. "He has really pale skin and the scar is dark pink and red."

"Eh, colors again," Toph says disdainfully.

"It's also big," The Duke says, from memory, because Zuko has lowered his head and his floppy thatches of hair are falling over the upper part of his face like a curtain. "Like, around his eye all the way down past his cheekbone, and then all the way to his ear."

"The rest of his face is really handsome though," Teo notes for Toph, and Teo doesn't seem the least bit selfconscious about commenting flatteringly on Zuko's appearance.

"I figured your ear and your eye were things from birth," Toph says to Zuko.

"Why would you assume that?" Teo asks.

Toph shrugs, but she looks thoughtful. "I guess cause limitations you're born with are more in line with my life experience than getting your face burned up," Toph answers with her typically candid, boundary-free lack of restraint. "So is that why your eyes are uneven, Candles?"

"It's called a contracture," Zuko says quietly. "Yes."

Silence falls again, and it lasts long enough for everyone to realize Zuko won't continue unless prodded. "Sorry, Zuko," Aang says, as if it's suddenly dawned on him that they've transgressed as a group by openly discussing the scar.

"It's fine." Zuko's voice is carefully even, if husky. "I know what I look like."

"Please go on," Aang prompts.

Zuko takes a deep breath, holds it and exhales slowly. Zuko remains slumped over and speaks mostly without looking at them, though from under hooded eyes he shoots Toph one last uncomfortable glance.

"I met a lot of people," Zuko repeats. "There was a family who needed help and I tried to help them, but they hated me when they found out who I really was, and I've wondered what happened to them after I left town. Whether I really helped them, or just staved off the inevitable. And Uncle was kind of trailing me the whole time, it turned out. Then Azula showed up and hurt Uncle with her lightning, you were there for that, and--"

Katara is not at all hung up on Toph's unsettling surveillance abilities. "And I offered to help him and like a toddler you screamed at us to go away."

Zuko's eyes flicker to her. "Right," he says uneasily. "I didn't trust you, because, well... I thought of you as enemies at the time."

"When did you stop thinking of us that way?" Aang wants to know.

"I... I don't know. I guess... in Caldera, when I was with my father, everything kind of clicked into place. That I was born into the wrong side of an unjust war, and fighting for the wrong side because of it." Zuko clears his throat, glances around at them and continues, focusing mostly on Aang as he speaks. "Anyway... I bandaged Uncle's injuries, and he was okay. Then when we got to Ba Sing Se Uncle got us jobs in a tea shop in the Lower Ring. I learned how to brew and serve tea." Zuko meets Sokka's eyes as though daring him to laugh again. Sokka raises his eyebrows innocently.

Zuko pauses, thinking back. "Uncle eventually got his own tea shop, and it made him happy," Zuko says, and his face noticeably softens. "We moved to a nicer apartment. Everything's nicer in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se. You... probably already got that, being in the city." Zuko hesitates, then resumes. "I was thinking less about my honor and the Avatar for a while until I found one of the 'Missing' posters you put up for your bison. I found him and I didn't know what to do with him, so I set him free.

"But then Azula tricked us and I was shut in that cavern with, with you Katara."

"I remember," Katara says frostily.

"And ... Azula showed up after you and the Avatar left, and she convinced me to help her. I'm sorry," Zuko says earnestly, miserably. "Uncle begged me not to side with her. I shouldn't have chosen her over Uncle, or over what I knew was right. I threw everything else away because I just wanted to go home. For years it was all I wanted.

"So I went back to Caldera with Azula, and my father welcomed me home, but it wasn't at all like I thought it would be. It was..." Zuko scratches his chin against his shoulder, thinking back. "It was awful. Stressful. Azula told our father I killed the Avatar, and I had a feeling you weren't dead, since Katara told me about her Spirit Oasis water, so I hired that assassin and sent him after you. I'm sorry."

"Such a dick move," The Duke says.

"Yeah, you could have gotten all of us killed," Teo says more gently.

"I know," Zuko says, the words hot with self-recrimination. "I knew I'd made the wrong decision in the caverns and I couldn't sleep. I don't know why it took me so long to accept it, but my father's a monster. I confronted him during the eclipse." Zuko moistens his lips. "I told him he was wrong to do what he did to me, and that the Fire Nation was wrong to wage this war."

Toph waves a hand. "Hold up, what did he do to you?"

"My face," Zuko says flatly, keeping his eyes on the ground as though he doesn't want to see them react, and even before Sokka processes the words he gets the vibe that this is the nitty gritty of the personal stuff Zuko wasn't so sure he wanted to discuss. A tight muscle in Zuko's jaw strains even further. "My first Agni Kai, after my first war meeting. I was thirteen. I wasn't supposed to be at the meeting, and I was insubordinate and refused to duel my father when he challenged me for my disrespect."

Sokka waits for more, confused by what he's hearing.

"So he did this to teach me a lesson--"

A couple of sharp breaths are audible around the campfire. Sokka isn't sure which of his friends gasp, because he's distracted by accidentally choking on a particularly treacherous mouthful of air.

"-- and he banished me afterwards unless I managed to find and capture the Avatar," Zuko finishes, resolutely lifting his head for his next words. "For years I blamed myself for all of it, but now I think --"

"That's how you got that?" Aang bursts out, staring at Zuko and interrupting, evidently forgetting his vow of a few minutes ago that they wouldn't interrupt. Heck, they've been interrupting left and right. "The Fire Lord did that to you? Your father did that? _On purpose_?"

"Because you wouldn't _duel_ him?" Teo echoes.

Katara's frowning. "So all this time, you were trying to capture Aang to please someone who deliberately disfigured you? For life?"

"Well, it sounds stupid when you say it like that," Zuko says. "He's my father and the Fire Lord, of course I wanted to please him. I just wanted-- I've been trying my whole life to make him proud." Zuko drops his chin and avoids their eyes again.

Sokka can identify with part of this, anyway. "I know how that feels."

Katara boggles at Sokka like he's grown a second head. "Did you just compare Dad to the Fire Lord?!"

"No," Sokka says sharply. "I'm saying I get what it's like when you want your father to be proud of you."

"That's a ridiculous comparison," Katara says.

 _No, it's a common experience,_ Sokka almost snaps back, but considering what Zuko just revealed to them, now is maybe not the time to start squabbling, so Sokka only gives her his most derisive look. Perhaps because the air feels stormy with the atmosphere of another impending sibling fight, for a few seconds no one says anything.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you," Aang says like a fervent, sympathetic wish.

Zuko shrugs, like sentiments imbued with such kindness make him selfconscious. "It was a long time ago."

Unlike the two low cooking fires, Katara didn't add firewood to their campfire earlier. Now the campfire's starting to wane, and Sokka needs something to do with his hands, to dispose with a portion of the nervous energy thrumming through his body at this incredibly fucked-up revelation. Zuko's _father_ messed up his face. Sokka leans over to the logs Haru stacked earlier and grazes the top candidate with his fingertips, edging it towards himself barely enough to topple it down. Grabbing the cylinder of wood as it rolls and jolts solidly down into his hand, Sokka adds the log to the campfire with a thunk and a shower of sparks. "So what did you do at the war meeting, set someone on fire? Draft a letter of surrender to King Kuei?"

"I... no, nothing like that." Zuko's good cheek is flushed red as though he's stepped out of line right here and now, not three or four years ago. "I thought a plan was wrong, and I contradicted one of the generals when it wasn't my place to speak at all."

"What was wrong with the plan?" Aang asks.

Aang poses the question curiously, as though he expects to hear the strategy contained some fatal flaw Zuko pointed out, but Sokka would bet good whale-walrus steaks the whole plan was rotten. And sure enough, Zuko shakes his head. "Like, morally wrong, not like there was a technical mistake," Zuko clarifies, his voice neutral before it sinks. "The plan was to sacrifice a regiment of new recruits. The forty-first division. They were used as a distraction," Zuko says hollowly, staring at the fire. "As bait for a battalion of powerful earthbenders." His voice sounds deadened, like he's been emptied out of emotion.

"Typical," Toph says.

"Your country really strives to find new depths, huh," Haru says.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life," Sokka says, thunderstruck all over again. "Not that you intruded on a private meeting or criticized a plan, but that... that... was your punishment. That's so... so _Fire Nation_."

These last two comments jerk Zuko's lopsided yellow eyes off the flames and make his irises blaze orange like they're reflecting the fire, and he glances sharply at Haru but directs his answer towards Sokka. "My family is not my whole country."

"Okay, sure, I stand corrected," Sokka says dryly, because damned if he's going to be intimidated by their angry prisoner. The banishment alone would have been off-the-wall overkill, but to destroy half Zuko's face in the bargain-- "That's so Fire Nation leadership. Is that better? _Tui and La_ , Zuko."

Zuko glares for another few seconds before his wrath deflates again, and then he positively droops, his chin tipping almost to his chest. "My family... my family has not been good for the Fire Nation, and the Fire Nation has not been good for the world, I know that." Zuko straightens up and says quietly, "I think I've talked enough for tonight. I'm ready to be muzzled."

Aang cringes a little at the word 'muzzled.' "Will you please keep going?" Aang urges him. "This is... it's important."

"All right," Zuko says, glancing in Sokka's direction. From the days and nights they've had him tied up, Sokka can tell when Zuko's about to ask for water, and without thinking he leans forward and snags Zuko's cup, filling it from the communal water bucket before he realizes he should have simply untied Zuko's wrists. Sokka realizes his mistake as he's already moving, and instead of changing course he just places the rim of the cup to Zuko's lips. They all wait, relatively patiently and in complete stillness, while Zuko drinks. Sokka allots him the customary Sokka-sponsored breathing break halfway through the cup.

A log in one of the cooking fires splits with a loud noise and a flare-up of sparks.

"You did a good thing," Aang says, a little tentatively. "By calling out that plan."

At last Zuko finishes drinking. "They're all dead now," Zuko says, and his face is focused now and his words are emphatic. "I did nothing for them."

"It was still the right thing to do," Aang says more decisively, like he's made up his mind and determined this point is worth arguing over.

"Thanks," Zuko says to Sokka, and he takes another half minute to compose himself. The last of the sun's rays are fading away, and the crickets are starting up. Zuko casts a glance back at the setting sun, then squares his shoulders.

"I'll never know whether it would have made a difference if I hadn't been so, um, outspoken," Zuko says. "I was forceful when -- well, it doesn't matter. For so long the choices I made that day were my biggest regret. I didn't help them, and I thought I'd ruined my life at the same time. But now I realize being banished was the best thing that could have happened to me. If he hadn't exiled me I'd never have learned the truth about the war. I wouldn't have spent all that time with Uncle, and I might have become more like my father. He's..." Zuko pauses for a long time, his eyes roving around the terrace stone like he's searching for the right words. "Cruel," Zuko says finally, abruptly, as if giving up on finding the word he sought, and going with second best, the most obvious choice there could be. Perfect for Second Choice Pagoda.

"You've been pretty cruel too," Katara says. "Terrorizing our village, using my mother's necklace to hunt us, hurting Sokka, endlessly trying to capture Aang, trying to have us all killed--"

"I know, and I know I'm repeating myself, but I'm sorry."

"None of this explains why you were so precious about your honor," Katara says, and the thought crosses Sokka's mind that Katara's using her words as cuttingly as possible, choosing the most explicitly insulting ways to express what's on her mind. "While you had me tied up, you told me you'd lost it and you needed to capture Aang to get it back. Aside from everything you did to us, what did you do to dishonor yourself?"

"Katara," Zuko says quietly, "I'm sorry I tied you to that tree. I didn't think I was tying you that tightly."

Katara glares at him. "It wasn't how tight you tied me, Zuko! It was the fact you did it at all! And the threats you made! ' _Tell me_ where he is, and I won't hurt you or your brother,'" Katara mimics in an imitation of Zuko's low raspy voice, although Katara's impersonation of Zuko's cadence sounds weirdly... seductive. Katara's not the best at impressions. Still, overall it's not a bad effort, maybe improved by how much she hates Zuko, and Sokka grins at her attempt.

"Zuko doesn't sound like that," Teo objects.

"That is _exactly_ how he sounded," Katara says staunchly.

"I didn't let the pirates hurt you," Zuko says, chagrined. "Believe me, they wanted to, they were really mad about that scroll."

"If you had, I'd have flung you off the precipice already, buddy," Sokka tells him with two quick pats to the shoulder. Zuko shoots him an oddly unnerved, unhappy look, giving Sokka second thoughts. Given that Zuko's dad tried to kill him, maybe Sokka shouldn't make jokes about doing the same. On the other hand, Zuko almost actually got them all killed a few days ago, so who's really ahead here.

"I don't care about the stupid tree. You've done so much worse," Katara says coldly. "Don't try to defend the indefensible. Just answer my question."

"You're right," Zuko says, contrite in the face of this criticism, and he continues in a subdued voice. Zuko holds his chin high, but keeps his eyes on the ground as he speaks. "What I just told you was how I -- how I thought I'd lost my honor. At the Agni Kai, I was expecting to duel General Bujing, because it was his plan I'd insulted. Agni Kai are usually fought to the death. Not always, you don't have to kill your opponent, but most duelists do. Some people consider it weak to spare your adversary at the end. I wasn't afraid to fight Bujing. He was old and not that powerful a bender, and I knew I was right and was sure I'd win," Zuko explains. "But when I turned around and saw it was my father I'd be facing, I went to my knees. My father commanded me to stand and fight, but I didn't. Instead I begged for his mercy." Zuko's face is composed and his words come out calmly enough, but the dull and distant look in his undamaged eye gives Sokka the impression it's costing Zuko something to share this information with them. "He said that by refusing to fight him, I had dishonored myself, and he wouldn't have a coward for a son."

Katara's eyes widen, and for once she seems to have nothing critical to say.

"And you were thirteen," Sokka verifies, and Zuko nods once. "That is super fucked up," Sokka says. "Sorry, but it is."

"I know," Zuko says, avoiding Sokka's eyes, but he looks up at Katara again. "The palace physicians kept me drugged for a few days to see if infection set in, to see if I would die, but I didn't. I woke up to two decrees-- one pronouncing my banishment, the other ordering me to capture Aang." Zuko verbally stumbles. "-- I mean, not Aang, obviously no one knew it was Aang-- but the Avatar, you know. I believed the second edict was my father giving me a path to redeem myself, and that if I brought him the Avatar, he would restore my honor to me." Zuko's eerie yellow eyes move away from Katara, roaming as he ruminates aloud. Eventually his eyes land back on her, locking with her icy blue gaze. "But I know now... honor isn't something anyone can give to you. It's something you earn with your actions, by choosing to do what's right. Before I found Aang, I had started to wonder if by giving me that quest, my father was just getting rid of me with what he expected would be a lifelong wild mongoose-lizard chase. But after I went home and Azula told him I killed the Avatar, he welcomed me and said he could tell my travels had changed me, and I don't think he was trying to lull me into a false sense of security. He accepted me and I was restored to my place at his right hand. It was everything I always wanted... except there was no honor in it because I knew it wasn't what was right."

"During your single combat that wasn't-- if you'd obeyed and stood up and started firebending at him, do you think your father would have killed you?" Toph asks.

Zuko pulls his chapped lips into his thinned-out mouth, nervously moistening them again, deep in thought. "I don't know," he says finally. "I've wondered that. But I just don't know."

"Keep going," Aang encourages. "You said you confronted the Fire Lord on the day of the invasion." Aang shakes his head in disbelief. "Sokka and Toph and I were down in that volcano bunker looking for the Fire Lord and we couldn't find him."

"I thought you might be," Zuko says as though he's had a private hunch confirmed. "Yeah, it's kind of a maze down there. Even if you could navigate it, he was in a secret chamber you can only access by a secret passage hidden inside a secret passage, so you'd never have found him." Zuko considers. "Unless you took a hostage and threatened them, or something."

"Oh, is that what you would have done?" Katara asks scathingly. 

"I mean... yes, " Zuko says, hesitant in the face of her scorn. "You'd have stood a chance at finding him then."

"We actually kinda did that," Toph says. "But the guy directed us to Azula."

"Oh," Zuko says, nonplussed. "Well, it was worth a shot I guess. It probably wouldn't have been a good place and time for us to run into each other, anyway."

"So then what happened?" Aang prods.

"I told him... I said a lot of things," Zuko says obliquely, his eyes on the fire, thinking back. "I told him I was defecting to join you and help you defeat him. He called me a full-blown traitor. He told me I should kill him right then-- he couldn't firebend because of the eclipse, and I had my swords." Zuko looks up at Aang. "I said that was your destiny, not mine." Aang turns away uncomfortably, but Zuko keeps talking as though he hasn't noticed. "He stalled me and got me to stay until the eclipse was over, and then he tried to kill me. I --" 

Sokka interrupts this time. "Your dad tried to kill you?!"

Zuko nods.

"Is he this horrible to your sister? And where's your mom in all this?" Sokka asks, thinking of the pretty lady in the painting.

"No, he favors Azula. My mother is a whole other story, but-- my father banished her years ago," Zuko says. "I guess. I haven't seen her since I was ten."

"Did your father firebend at you?" Aang asks a little anxiously, returning his worried gaze to Zuko's face.

"He shot lightning at me. I escaped though." Zuko draws a deep breath. "I ran faster than I've ever run in my life, cause I kind of told him where I was heading. I realized I maybe shouldn't have done that, but luckily the city was in disarray because of the eclipse and the invasion. I went to the prison to free my uncle, but he had already escaped on his own. So I stole a war balloon and flew over Caldera looking for your bison, and I saw you flying north and followed you. I figured this was where you were going and I got here before you, I'm not sure how to be honest, and I waited for you. That's it."

"We had to walk partway," Toph explains. "Appa was tired."

"Oh," Zuko says blankly, like it's news to him that airbending with too many extra friends aboard makes a flying bison tired. Good, it's not just Sokka then. "Oh, and I made the one stop to fill up my flasks and that obviously wasn't great." Zuko drops his chin down and sideways to cough into his shoulder. "I was in a hurry just in case I was wrong about where you were heading. Like if you were continuing across the ocean to the Northern Water Tribe, or in case you weren't planning to stick around here."

"We are way too predictable," Sokka says with a sigh.

Zuko frowns. "You've never been predictable," Zuko contradicts him. "I remember we charted your bison's course while we followed you, and the patterns the helmsman drew of your movements were all over the map. Zigging and zagging and curlicues, no rhyme or reason that anyone could figure out. I brought it to an expert tracker, then to a map specialist, a um, a cartographer, to try to predict where you might head next, but they were both as confused as we were. We concluded the Avatar was a master of evasive tactics."

"Oh wow," Aang says, eyes wide. 

"I despaired of ever finding you. And every time our paths crossed and we fought, you evaded me," Zuko continues. "Never badly injuring me, always just... escaping. It fit the escape artist profile. It's why I second-guessed myself about the Air Temple here."

Aang's absolutely an escapist, just not in the way Zuko thinks. "Aang likes sight-seeing," Sokka explains, biting his lip and trying valiantly not to laugh. Katara snorts in an unladylike way, looking terribly amused, which makes holding back the giggles even more difficult.

"Is that what that was?" Zuko shakes his head at the mysteries of the universe. "Listen, I know I didn't explain myself well the other day. I wanted to come back to your camp and try again, but... you told me to go away, and not to come back, and that's why I didn't. I know I've transgressed against you but I'm trying to do better. The past few years have been hard, but I know now that I had to go through all those things to learn the truth, to get where I am today."

"You sound different," Aang says after a moment of quiet.

"I am different." Zuko turns pleading eyes on Aang. "Please, let me teach you firebending. All I want is to play my part in helping you to defeat my father."

"It sounds like you just have a personal vendetta now," Katara says.

"No," Zuko insists. "Look, I understand why you hate me, but it's not like that. I want to help bring this war to a close."

"Even if you have changed, we're not obligated to forgive you," Katara says.

Momo suddenly sails onto the terrace, alighting next to Zuko, who by now no longer jumps when an affectionate lemur appears at his elbow without warning. "I know," Zuko says softly, his eyes on Momo. Sokka's gotten the impression before that Zuko'd like to try petting Momo, but with his hands tied he wouldn't be able to do more than stick his elbow out.

"You told me in the caverns that you'd changed," Katara accuses. "And then a few minutes later, when we needed your help, you joined Azula and attacked us."

Zuko's about to speak, but Toph dries her spit-slicked fingertip on the chest of her dress like she's shining it, begins her after-dinner nose-picking session, and cuts him off. "Candles, is there anything else you're not telling us?"

"Well... yeah, lots of stuff," Zuko says uncertainly. "I'm summing up months here."

Toph's finger disappears into her nose past the first knuckle, flicks down and out and then slides back up for more. "Anything important?"

Momo scampers away in a darting flash of black and white, off to Aang to see what's left on his plate. Zuko hedges, watching as Momo selects a chunk of carrot and starts going to town. "I mean... what's important?"

Toph shrugs, temporarily switching nostrils. Sokka knows the change of location is temporary because he's watched her perform this nightly ritual at least a hundred times.

"Actually, there is one thing," Zuko says. "After I was banished, I met a hermit at the Eastern Air Temple. He was old and I was sure he was the Avatar, at first, but he wasn't an airbender. His name was Pathik. He--"

"Wait, you met Guru Pathik?" Aang interrupts in astonishment.

Zuko nods.

"That is weird," Sokka says fervently.

"Well, if the Eastern Air Temple is where the guy lives, and you both went there, it's not really that weird," Toph points out. Toph must have located a moist specimen, because she rolls her latest selection between two fingers for a short time before whipping it off into the gathering dark.

"Huh, true," Sokka concedes.

Aang asks, "Did he give you advice?"

"No," Zuko answers. "No advice. But he told me he was given a vision that my destiny would be closely entwined with the Avatar's, that I would stand with the Avatar before the world. He said it wasn't his vision, that Avatar Yangchen passed it to him. I thought he was mocking me."

Aang's mouth falls open a little at this revelation. "Whoa."

"You didn't hurt him, did you?" Sokka asks. "Knowing you-- or, the old you-- you can't have had a good reaction if you thought you were being ridiculed."

"I didn't hurt him," Zuko says defensively, and unless Sokka's imagining things, Zuko's good eye turns shifty for a moment (discerning anything besides extreme shock from his slitted eye is impossible). "I mean-- I tackled him and knocked him down when I thought he was the Avatar, but he wasn't injured. He was really spry for a hoary old guy." Zuko glances at Toph, then at Aang. "Uncle believed him, but I thought either he was a crazy old man, or he missed a crucial detail or two in the prophecy, like, the image he should have gotten was us standing together with you chained up, or something," Zuko admits. "If our destinies were intertwined, I thought that had to mean I would succeed in finding and capturing you. But now I know it meant I'm supposed to teach you firebending."

"Did he offer you onion-banana juice?" Aang asks, because Aang's just like that. 

Zuko shakes his head no, appearing as puzzled by the question as Sokka feels. "He didn't stick around long. I wasn't... friendly." Zuko looks at Sokka, and then at Aang, painfully earnest. "I'll do anything to make you trust me."

Katara resettles herself, shifting, and rolls her eyes. "You realize how incredibly suspicious that sounds, right?"

"Anything?" Aang asks.

"Well, not anything," Zuko says, turning hesitant again. "I've kind of-- found my internal compass, and I hope you won't ask me to do anything ... bad." Zuko speaks faster. "But within reason? Yeah. Tell me how I can prove myself to you."

"Do you think you can teach Twinkletoes firebending with your hands tied?" Toph asks.

Zuko's sole eyebrow rises, like he's unsure whether Toph's serious or cracking wise at his expense. "I mean. I don't know." Zuko grimaces, and Sokka sees his fingers twitch and his hands curl behind his back as he thinks out loud. "I could try to like... coach him through it? But he needs to learn at least fifty katas plus some different techniques." Zuko pauses, staring at the ground, his eyes moving around slightly like he's calculating in his mind.

"What techniques?" Toph asks, as if keen to compare bending lessons.

"Um, fire daggers, whips, controlling multiple flames at once." Zuko lists them haphazardly. "And redirecting lightning. I guess we could cut it to forty forms, but I'll need to demonstrate and help him with positioning." Sokka's never heard him sound so unsure. "Maybe if you're the quickest study ever, you could more or less get the idea..." Zuko trails off a bit dismally, as though he thinks Aang being a speedy enough learner is highly unlikely. "But it's my father, so precision's going to be just as key as power."

"Don't you mean _firepower_?" Sokka waggles his eyebrows. 

Ignoring this perfectly good play on words, Zuko's focus is on Toph as he shakes his head. "I can try, but I don't think so."

"Aang is a great student, he'd surpass you in no time," Katara says defensively, because she's protective and loyal like that. 

Zuko answers with clear exasperation. "I'm sure he is, it's just-- Sozin's Comet is approaching fast, and he has a lot to learn if he's going to face down my father."

Aang's gazing at Zuko with new understanding and perhaps a measure of forgiveness from the well of monk-instilled empathy Aang's whole personality is built around, resulting in one of those soft, compassionate Aang looks. "Thank you for sharing all of that with us," Aang says finally. "It's given me a lot to think about."

The way Aang says it, Sokka's pretty sure the needle's been moved for him in the direction of showing Zuko clemency for his numerous and various misdeeds. Aang will be won over soon, if he hasn't been already. Judging by Zuko's face, he thinks so too, a faint hope written across his features as he bows his head. "Of course. Thank you for listening, Av-- Aang."

"Wait a tic," Sokka says, stabbing an accusing finger in Zuko's direction. "You have yet to explain your most heinous crime--"

Zuko looks at Sokka startled, his lips parting and his good eye wide and unsure, like he's suddenly waiting for some kind of unforeseen betrayal.

Sokka would have to be a jerk to keep Zuko held in suspense when the guy looks this severely freaked out. "-- what the heck was up with your hair before?" 

Zuko rolls his eyes and pulls a grumpy face, and he doesn't answer, but he lets a huffy breath out like he's relieved the set-up was a joke.

"This is exactly what I mean," Katara says in an undertone to Aang. "Sokka," Katara says, "And Teo, you too. I want you both to promise you're not going to untie him."

Sokka scowls at her.

"Aside from for the bathroom," Katara amends hastily.

"All that, and you can't see your way to giving him another chance?" Teo asks, and Katara shakes her head. Teo's lips twist unhappily, but he nods. "Okay. You have my word, I'll go with the decision of the group."

Sokka's annoyed and far less inclined to consent right off the bat. "Where is this mistrust coming from? I haven't untied him unnecessarily."

"And I want a promise that you won't," Katara says. "Like Aang said... we have to agree on this."

"You don't trust my judgement?" Sokka's really irked now, though his question comes out pretty civil all things considered.

"Not where Zuko's concerned," Katara says bluntly.

"That's pretty obnoxious, but fine," Sokka says, begrudging her every word of this accord. "I promise."

Aang nods once at their exchange, stands and picks up the long-since cooled cooking pot, not bothering with the oven mitts now. "Katara, can I talk to you?" Aang asks as he moves towards the fountain to waterbend the pot clean. Even with an airbending breeze assist, Aang really has to lug the iron cauldron. Sokka's pretty sure it's Haru's turn to wash the dishes, but Haru's gaze is fixed on Zuko, and Aang seems to want to be doing something. Sokka feels a bit twitchy himself. 

Wordlessly Katara stands and follows Aang. Their ensuing conversation over by the fountain starts out whisper-quiet and too drowned out by the sound of pouring water to successfully listen in on. Judging by their faces and body language though, as the rest of them watch, the discussion is rapidly getting heated. Gradually the two of them turn to face one another, Katara starts gesticulating, and finally they start to get loud enough for the rest of them to overhear scraps of conversation.

Katara's speaking in a hissing not-quite-whisper, and she sounds far more agitated than Aang. "--next time and-- ... taking steps away from being our prisoner-- ... and apparently everyone's just fine with that."

Sokka, Toph, Teo, and The Duke are all silent, listening and exchanging glances. Haru looks like he feels guilty or at least slightly embarrassed about eavesdropping. Zuko's eyes stay fixed on the ground, but no way he's not listening just as closely.

"--not a bad person--" Aang murmurs. "-- giving him."

"-- intentions in the world--" Katara whispers vehemently. "-- don't let -- ... that's not changed."

"-- I know-- ... underneath that he--" Aang's fragments of speech become even harder to make out as he buffets the inside of the pot with a forceful series of successive waves, scouring out the residual rice, but without a doubt he's arguing on Zuko's behalf. "-- good intentions-- ... mistakes, but--"

"This is awkward but it's actually my turn to do the dishes," Haru says, glancing at Aang and Katara, and he stands up and begins gathering plates and cups.

"Eh, they can take it elsewhere if they want to," Toph says to Haru. "Besides, Zuko's bed is over there."

Sokka's heard more or less enough-- successfully eavesdropping on people talking softly next to a fountain is a fool's errand, and The Duke seems to decide the same. "Alright Zuko," The Duke says, and hearing him use Zuko's name instead of 'prisoner' or a slur is enough of a noticeable surprise that Sokka and Teo both look at him. The Duke holds up the cord, and Zuko turns to allow himself to be gagged. Haru's busy stacking plates, so Sokka gently elbows The Duke and takes the rope before the kid can protest.

"I'll do it," Sokka says.

Zuko's eyes are still on the ground, his face blank as Sokka crouches behind him. Sokka pauses then, gag in hand. "Sorry your dad's such a dick," Sokka says seriously. "Nobody deserves that."

"Thanks," Zuko says, waking up and throwing an uncertain look over his shoulder. "Sorry I ... everything. You know."

Sokka nods once and begins to wrap the cord around, putting his fingers in between the blossoming knot and Zuko's hair.

"I thought you didn't want to gag him anymore," The Duke says.

"I don't think he should be gagged at all, but eh, it's not that bad," Sokka says. And Zuko's not bad either. Sokka thinks about what his medal will look like. _Not as big a jerk as you could have been._

"I don't either," The Duke says, which is an even bigger surprise, and The Duke studies Zuko's face. "I guess you're different than I thought," The Duke admits, punching Zuko in the bicep. Zuko's arm jerks a little on impact, but he makes no sound. "Not as bad as the rest of the worldburners."

Zuko has a double mouthful of rope and can't properly answer The Duke, and it might be just as well because this limited acceptance seems to make him more troubled than anything else. Zuko half nods, half bows his head, his forehead creased with lines.

Sokka's dismayed to see the punching, pulling his own shoulder back in case The Duke gets any ideas about hitting him too. Sokka feels the dig of sharp knuckles thumping forcefully into his muscles quite often enough, thank you. "Not you, too," Sokka says woefully. "With the fond hitting."

"He learned from the best," Toph says of The Duke, and as The Duke passes by her, she's clearly ready for him, making fists in front of her face like a prizefighter, and when he punches her arm she punches his back harder. A pained expression flashes over The Duke's face, but he seems to take pride in clenching his jaw and smothering whatever vocalization was about to originate in his throat, nevermind emerge from his mouth. 

"Since when do you two have such a rapport?" Sokka asks, finishing the knot and looking after The Duke, who seems to be heading in the direction of bed. Sokka feels out of the loop, and a bit mystified, because Toph and The Duke don't act particularly close.

"Remember when he let me throw up in his helmet during the invasion? Since that," Toph answers. "Then he held onto it until we debarked because the smell was making me feel even more sick."

"You know, I do remember that," Sokka says, thinking back to the submarine trip and stroking his chin. "Yeah, that sounds like high-quality bonding." Sokka takes a moment to articulate his thoughts. "But we're never going to get him beyond reflexive violence if you school him to punch people every time he--" Sokka realizes mid-sentence in a moment of stark clarity that this is a truly futile effort. "You know what, forget it."

"Yup," Toph says.

Aang and Katara have probably figured out they have an attentive audience, because they've put their backs to the fire pit and gone back to whispering to one another, though judging by the moments they occasionally turn sideways toward each other and display their faces in profile, their dispute has grown no less intense. The clean pot sits empty and upended at their feet, dripping dry in the cool night air. Haru stands by the fire with his arms full of the thin stone plates, visibly hesitating to disturb them, and the two of them are far too involved and focused on one another to notice him indecisively hovering.

Sokka checks Zuko out. Zuko seems to have mentally retreated some, his face vacant, his eyes lowered, and looking at him one word comes to Sokka's mind-- _vulnerable_. Zuko's exposed himself to them more thoroughly tonight than if he stripped off all his clothes and stood with his limbs apart for their inspection.

(Good mental picture. Sokka files it away for later.)

Zuko bared his _soul_ to them. Given that the Fire Lord's abusive parenting is literally emblazoned on Zuko's face, Sokka would bet a stack of arctic tigerfox furs that some of what Zuko told them about his past remains a source of trauma and shame to him even now. Sure, maybe he's shaken off the Fire Nation brainwashing of his childhood in order to fashion his own beliefs and values, and maybe he's recast the events of his banishment in a new light. He's stubbornly torn free of his father's control in order to make his own choices. Even so, suffering that deep has to leave profound and lasting emotional marks. For the first time Sokka sees Zuko's situation clearly: Zuko probably had a horrific childhood he didn't detail for them; the kind of parent who'd blight a kid's face for the sake of a lesson is not the kind of parent who's otherwise loving and decent. Zuko finally won his shitty father over, got to return to the Fire Nation in glory, then threw his whole life away to trail them here in hopes of teaching Aang firebending. Zuko gave up his home, most of his family (even if they largely suck, they're still his family), his throne and his future into the bargain. He came not knowing whether they would forgive and welcome him with open arms, or flatly turn him away, or harm him like they talked about doing that first morning. Zuko risked that. He couldn't have known what exactly they'd do, because he didn't know them.

And for his sacrifice, the seven of them have bullied and disdained him, teased and humiliated him, all while keeping him tied and gagged like a criminal.

Sokka drags his attention back to Haru and his dishwashing dilemma. "Just toss the plates off the terrace, Toph can make more," Sokka suggests.

Sokka's expecting a sarcastic thanks for casually volunteering her earthbending services, but Toph only nods. "Yeah, let's let the lovers fight it out," Toph says, and she stands up. "I'm going to bed."


	5. A Helping Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I do enjoy the idea of a later-in-life adult Tokka hookup and generally wave a tiny Sokka-is-Suyin's-father-theory flag, and this chapter strayed rather explicitly in that direction. I regret nothing...  
> 2\. ... except for how mangled the chapter separations are-- the beginning of this chapter really should have gone at the end of chapter four. Also can't believe I ever thought I had the self-discipline to make this story genfic. I regret how poorly planned out this fic has been.  
> 3\. We have reached the sex. More than half this chapter is either sex or masturbation. Just so you know.  
> 4\. **Content warnings** : references to and discussion of voyeurism without consent. Also a minute of brief, dubcon, over-the-clothes groping before the matter of consent is resolved.  
> 5\. Zuko's laugh here is a more audible version of his laugh in _The Headband_ because lulz, that wheeze.  
> 

"Okay," Haru mutters, and he walks to the edge of the terrace, holds the stack of plates at arms length, and lets go. For a long delay of seconds, nothing happens. Off that side of the courtyard, the plates must miss the water and hit rock, because the faint shattering noise that echoes from far below, like a bunch of pebbles hitting rock bottom early in an avalanche, rises up to them audibly in the quiet evening. 

Katara looks up at the sound, her eyes sharpening on Haru. "What was that?"

"I threw the plates," Haru explains.

Katara looks at him like he's lost his mind, like he's been destructive for no good reason, and Aang half-turns around. "Off the edge?" Katara asks. "What did you do that for?"

"Toph told me to," Haru says helplessly. 

Aang looks at Zuko and back at Katara. "We're going to talk about this more tomorrow," Aang says firmly.

"They're just earthbent plates, Aang," Sokka says, knowing full well Aang means the Zuko situation. "You're overreacting."

The look Aang fixes on Katara leaves no room for argument. Aang can be kind of passive sometimes, letting himself be guided by them, but when he forms his own opinion about something important and puts his foot down, that's the argument's end.

"Fine," Katara says, like she's indifferent.

Aang kneels by Zuko and asks him something Sokka can't quite catch. Zuko looks at Aang, giving Aang his whole attention, and then he nods, and as Aang rises and steps away Zuko's gaze unfocuses again.

Haru and The Duke bring the cups over to the fountain to rinse them out, and Zuko's still sitting zoned out with Teo as the rest of them head to bed.

*

Sokka's down on paper for the second night shift watching Zuko. Knowing he'll have to wake back up soon makes it a challenge to fall asleep. When Sokka finally drifts off, it feels like Teo's gripping his shoulder to wake him only minutes later. Dragging himself back to consciousness is difficult, but Sokka forces his eyes open. 

The night feels particularly cool and bright, and when he sits up, Sokka sees Teo's already removed Zuko's gag. Zuko's standing up by the fountain and the lonely mattress, hands tied, waiting for him. Sokka decides with a glance up at the sky not to bother with a torch. The sky is crystal clear and full of stars, and with no cloud cover the light from the waxing moon will be enough to see by tonight.

Sokka moves through the routine-- transferring Teo from chair to mattress, finishing unwrapping his thin legs, spreading the blanket over him and saying goodnight. Then he makes his way over to Zuko. "Hey," Sokka says.

"Hey," Zuko echoes, and together they begin their nightly jaunt to the trees.

"How are you doing?" Sokka asks him.

"Still here," Zuko says, but he sounds more morose than usual.

"Here, I'll untie you for the walk," Sokka offers, and he sets a hand on Zuko's shoulder to turn him around.

"Won't that break your promise to your sister?" Zuko asks, but he stops walking immediately to give Sokka access to his bonds, and the words are basically spoken over his shoulder. Sokka starts untying him anyway, despite him arguing in opposition to his own interests. Zuko's quick, impulsive mouth probably gets him into trouble just as often as Sokka's causes him problems. Well, not like that's a big revelation, actually-- there's terrible proof on Zuko's face that his mouth has gotten him into hot water in the past. They definitely have a brain-mouth filter problem in common, minus that painful-looking, permanent evidence. 

"Nah, it's for the bathroom," Sokka says lightly. After Sokka frees him, Zuko begins his usual series of arm stretches while Sokka coils up the rope. Sokka's seen Zuko methodically execute them so many times, he's confident he could replicate the same set of exercises in their entirity. "It was pretty ballsy to tell us all that stuff," Sokka says at length as they walk. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I would've pegged you as too proud to talk about a lot of that."

Zuko stops rolling his shoulders and looks at Sokka flatly. "What, my mark?"

So interesting that Zuko refers to his facial disfigurement as _my mark_ instead of _my scar_. Sokka wonders what Zuko thinks he's marked for. Probably just that nebulously evolving destiny he keeps bringing up. 

Sokka used to have a lot of plans, but he's never thought about any of them as his _destiny_. Destinies are highfalutin things to believe you have. Sokka has free will. He left home to rescue the Avatar, and things just sort of snowballed from there. Sokka used to think about getting married, about becoming chief of their tribe someday, but not anymore. Hopefully his destiny will be to keep everyone here alive. Sokka can't think too far past that anymore. Maybe at some point he can try to find and rescue his dad, but the comet is the end point of all his thoughts and plans.

"Not that exactly," Sokka says quickly, though he can't stop his eyes from tracking almost involuntarily sideways to Zuko's red burned side. In the light of the fire earlier in the evening, the scar looked monstrous and benign by turns. When Zuko turned towards him, at the angle at which Sokka was seated, the flickering light illuminated the livid blotch one second, highlighting what in the near-darkness looked like a hideously divided, half-ruined face, and concealed its discoloration in shadows the next. Away from the fire, walking next to Zuko in the moonlight, the scar merely looks dim, a faded part of Zuko's facial background, and in the foreground only handsomeness. "Just-- a bunch of what seemed like painful things. Your scar, your dad, your duel, your dad trying to kill you... it was a lot."

"I used to be proud, but not anymore. My pride matters less than nothing," Zuko says distantly, turning away to face forward as they walk. "I can talk about personal things if that's what I have to do."

Sokka's not sure what to say. Zuko's wrong. Bent but defiant pride runs through every fiber of every muscle in him, every lift of his chin, every concession to his reduced circumstances. Zuko's no ordinary captive, he's a prince made prisoner, a prince who's chosen captivity, and it shows even when he's behaving humbly. Maybe especially then. Zuko might think he's excised his pride, but he could no more leave that behind than he could decide to leave his whole body behind and spirit walk. Sokka can see the smoldering pride in the way Zuko holds himself, in his squared shoulders, in the thin determined line of his lips, in his imperious golden eyes.

"All that matters is stopping my father. If I made progress towards that tonight, then good. I'd do a lot more than talk for you to accept me into your group." Zuko stretches his elbow up behind his head, pushing down several times. Then he sighs. For a few moments they have silence, which Zuko breaks with a short, weary confession. "You're not wrong. I never told anybody about any of it, before. Not ever."

"Well, if ever there was a time, that was it," Sokka says encouragingly. "Sorry your dignity took a hit though."

"Dignity?" To Sokka's surprise, Zuko drops his arm and chuckles. The sound of his two-second laugh is hoarse and wheezing and bitter, an asthmatic hiccoughing from the back of his throat, like his vocal chords have suddenly crapped out on him. It's a noise Sokka imagines an injured and slowly dying ostrich-horse might make. Zuko's lips are upturned, though, and it's definitely amused under-his-breath laughter and not a choking death rattle, so though Sokka shoots him a quick look, he decides not to comment or poke fun. It's the first time he's ever heard the guy laugh; the last thing Sokka wants is to crack a joke that'll leave him less likely to hear this bizarre but oddly pleasant noise in the future.

"Feels like a long time since I had any of that," Zuko says, turning sober again and meditative as the mirth leaves him.

"Nonsense, you're as dignified as a prisoner can be," Sokka assures him. "When you're not being forced to admit you want to get your rocks off."

Zuko averts his eyes and starts pressing his opposite elbow back and down.

"Don't feel bad, Toph is a hazard," Sokka says easily, but at a glance he can tell Zuko's ashamed and would do better with distraction than reassurance. Sokka definitely should not rib him too much about his thwarted libido, no matter how tempting a target for humor such things make. "So how'd you talk Katara into letting you help with the fires?"

Zuko gives Sokka a critical look, like Sokka's said something stupid. "I didn't talk her into anything. You saw I was gagged, right?"

"Oh, yeah." Duh, Sokka knew that. "What did she say when she changed her mind?"

"Um." Zuko tilts his head sideways. "Something like..." Zuko cocks his head and opens his mouth like he's about to do an impersonation of Katara but changes his mind about the mimesis at the last minute. "She was trying to do a bunch of things at once. She looked at me and asked if I could cook the loin without burning it to char. I nodded and that was it." Zuko pauses. "I think she only let me because Aang's a vegetarian."

"Yeah, probably, but hey, it's a step," Sokka says. "And apparently The Duke's cool with you now."

Zuko stretches out a hand and runs fingers gently over the gray-by-night flowers and the leaves of bushes as they pass, and the thought crosses Sokka's mind that Zuko hasn't touched much of anything in days. Bowls, cups, his cloak, his food, his dick to piss, and that's about it. Maybe Zuko's feeling starved for touch in more ways than one. Sokka tries to remember whether Zuko's showed any previous inclination to touch the shrubs. "He has a lot of grit for nine."

"Well, it was hard-won I think," Sokka says. "I don't know much about his life but it sounds as rough as yours, just in different ways."

"I'm sure," Zuko says stiffly. "Nine-year-old soldiers don't tend to come out of cushy childhoods."

"Still, it's nice you're off the kill list," Sokka says as they reach the latrine area, but instead of going immediately in, Sokka holds a moment.

"Yeah, I guess." Zuko bends at the waist, reaching down with his fingers and touching his palms to the terrace stone, his spine going on forever as he folds himself in half. When Sokka remains still, Zuko tilts his face up. "Did you want me to go first tonight?"

Sokka's made up his mind about what he plans to do, though not without a feeling of amorphous tension settling deep in his stomach. "If you want to. My suggestion still stands, you know," Sokka tells Zuko, and Zuko doesn't need to ask which suggestion Sokka means.

Zuko straightens, making only a second of eye contact before kind of shrugging, and Sokka gets it, he does. After all, two nights ago he himself was aroused but decided not to jerk it here where Zuko could hear him.

"Okay," Sokka says, and he slips between the trees, takes a piss, and comes out so Zuko can go in. The dead of night at the Western Air Temple is as quiet as ever, with only the whisper of the nighttime breeze blowing against the pagoda, and Sokka listens to Zuko pee while thinking about privacy, companionship, shared experiences, intimacy. Zuko certainly seemed into kissing him last night, but if neither he nor Zuko wants to jerk off when and where the other can overhear, what makes Sokka think things will feel any less awkward doing stuff even more up close and personal? Does a mutual agreement to fool around together have an awkwardness-eliminating effect? Is uncertainty about each other all that's holding them back?

Zuko comes back out promptly, cooperatively turning his back to Sokka and putting his hands at the small of his back for retying.

"Come on, new location," Sokka says after Zuko's trussed back up, and Sokka leads half a step ahead since Zuko has no idea where Sokka's room is or even where they're going. Zuko follows Sokka without question as they walk quietly along the pagoda's side terrace.

When they reach his room, Sokka swings the door open and stands back, letting Zuko enter first. Zuko walks into the doorway, freezes for a moment, then steps in. Sokka follows him in and stands aside, letting Zuko look around in the bright moonlight slanting into the spacious room, because once Sokka closes the door, the darkness will be total. 

"Is this your room?" Zuko asks. The question is normal enough, an expected question someone might ask, but Zuko sounds strange.

"I think it might have been a kitchen, once," Sokka says. "Lots of space, no windows, big fireplace." 

"If it was a kitchen, it would have windows and it wouldn't have a door," Zuko says, no longer tired or subdued. Zuko sounds like he's on edge and is certain he knows what he's talking about. "Most of their ovens are actually located outside, on balconies and terraces. Trust me, I've seen all the Air Temple architecture."

"Our leading historian weighs in," Sokka says. "What do you think it was then?"

"A crematorium. For funeral rites," Zuko says, looking up towards the high, darkened ceiling like he expects to see spirits floating around in the upper corners.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Zuko says. "I remember this room, I've been in here before."

"You have?"

Zuko nods. "I searched this whole place, room by room, from pagoda to pagoda. I searched all the Air Temples. During the day, you can see black soot marks on the walls, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Those are from incense," Zuko says. "They burned it while they washed the bodies. And that's why the fireplace is that long shallow shape and the chimney's so big."

"They washed -- so it was really like, a mortuary?" Sokka'd begun to think of this room as his personal masturbatorium. Finding out it used to be a place to ceremonially dispose of the dead is a weird twist. But then, what is Sokka's life but a series of weird twists?

"Yeah, a combination mortuary and crematorium." Zuko looks around again. "Has Aang been in here?"

"No, I haven't been giving out tours," Sokka says. "I did have Toph in here to clean out the chimney, because it would have taken me hours and it took her thirty seconds. So uh... are you freaked out to be in here?"

"I'm okay," Zuko says, but his gaze continues to wander around the ceiling like he's jumpy. "I mean, the Air Temples are kind of evocative of death generally, given what happened. With all the bones and debris." Zuko returns his eyes and attention to Sokka. "Why, are you? Are you going to find a different room?"

"Nah, I mean... it's just a room, right? A room with more privacy than most of them." Sokka closes the ancient door with care, since one of the hinges creaks like it's close to breaking, and speaks flippantly. "I figure the worst a vengeful Air Nomad ghost is gonna do is play a prank, maybe administer a wedgie, and I don't believe in that kind of ghost, anyway." 

In the last sheen of moonlight before he shuts the door and blackness encloses them, Sokka sees Zuko wearing a wide-eyed look as though shocked by his irreverence. 

Sokka goes and sits on the low mattress, laid with his spread-out bedroll. Memory makes Sokka's steps confident even in the near-perfect darkness. "Light the fire, would you?"

"Okay," Zuko says, and the next thing Sokka can see is Zuko, having dropped to one knee, breathing on the freshly laid-out kindling and fuelwood, a long thin stream of flame that starts the blaze up quickly. Sokka's been constructing rather small fires in here, only ever using about a fifth of the hearth's space. The nights at the Western Air Temple tend to be chilly even at this time of year because of the wind and the altitude, but tonight is cooler than usual, and a fire will feel nice. Then too, Sokka wants the door closed which means he needs the light to see by, even if Sokka didn't realize when he set out the fresh wood earlier that he was laying a cremation fire. If Zuko's right, probably tens of thousands of corpses were burned in this fireplace.

Despite the claim that he's okay, Zuko seems unsettled, and he starts talking. "Air Nomad custom was to wash the bodies, then cremate them, and they would scatter the ashes off the side of the Air Temple. If it wasn't a naturally windy day, a pair of airbenders would make it one. The first few handfuls of ashes were ladled out and ritually cast over the side by the people closest to the deceased, but then the little kids present would um, grab handfuls and run around trailing them into the wind, or throw them into the air like confetti. Not at each other, but... throwing."

The way Zuko says it, Sokka can easily imagine a pack of Air Nomad kids happily racing around the terrace outside scattering handfuls of human remains. "What's confetti?"

Zuko turns his head to look at Sokka, as though he's only just remembered he's talking to another person. In the firelit darkness, with the blaze at an angle, Zuko's eyes appear an anomalous backlit amber-gold, lit from within like an owl-cat. Maybe it's a trick of the light, the same way Sokka can see the flames writhing in his pupils when Zuko stays facing Sokka but darts his eyes back to the fire. Zuko's gaze always seems drawn to any fire. "It's tiny colored bits of parchment, or flower petals, that you throw in the air during a celebration. Like at a wedding or a festival."

"Oh." Thinking back, Sokka remembers seeing something of that nature on Avatar Day in Chin Village when they put Aang on trial. Sokka didn't give the stuff a second thought, and he didn't know the word for it. Those days and nights were too stressful to think about much of anything besides getting Aang out alive. "You know a lot about Air Nomad culture."

"Well, I read about them, all the books and scrolls I could find," Zuko says, turning back to the fireplace and breathing another lick of flame into the small hearthfire, as though he's filling an empty spot where fire should be. "I wasn't interested in their way of life, I was searching for clues to the Avatar's location and some of it stuck. Especially the funeral customs, because... more than one writer described the ceremonies as joyful," Zuko says abruptly. "Or uplifting. When I first read about it, it seemed incredibly disrespectful. But I guess... it was kind of nice actually. The Fire Nation practices cremation too, but there's nothing uplifting about our funerals." Zuko gets a guilty look on the undamaged half of his face, like by issuing even this mild criticism of his homeland he's perpetrated a premeditated thought crime. 

"To hear Aang talk about life pre-iceberg, they found the fun in everything they did," Sokka offers. "Not just the kids, the adults too. I mean, Aang and his mentor monk would spend hours baking cakes and pies just to bend them into the faces of unsuspecting fellow monks, and that was an important component of his airbending training."

Zuko snorts. "Yeah, firebending training won't be like that."

"That's probably for the best," Sokka says, and then he looks around the room again, thoughtful. "Throwing around ashes doesn't seem any more disrespectful to me than burning a corpse in the first place. I mean, none of it seems disrespectful, exactly, it's just... not what's normal to me," Sokka amends, because he genuinely does not feel judgy. "In the Southern Water Tribe we wrap the dead and do burials at sea. In the Earth Kingdom they put the bodies in special boxes and bury them in the ground or mount them on the sides of vertical cliff faces. I don't think any of it really matters one way or another. Dead is dead."

"I've seen the coffins suspended on the mountainsides," Zuko says uneasily. "And for Earth Kingdom royalty they build tombs." The firelight plays across Zuko's face, and Sokka gazes at his good side for a long minute while Zuko stares into the fire. Zuko's really, really attractive. If his father hadn't burned half his face, he'd easily be among the most beautiful people Sokka's ever seen. 

Actually, even with his face disfigured, he's still one of the most beautiful people Sokka's seen, and on the heels of that thought Sokka realizes suddenly that he has it bad.

"The Fire Lords and their families are interred in a huge vault under Caldera City called the Dragonbone Catacombs." Zuko's voice is muted and far away, like he's wandering the dark sprawling paths of the crypt in his mind. "Fire Sages guard it, there's a secret staircase you open with firebending. Then there's an antechamber sloping down lined with the skulls of dragons, and it leads into connected halls of golden statues and a thousand little empty sepulchers. The bodies of the earliest Fire Lords were buried in the catacombs, but long ago they switched to public pyres, and now they bury our ashes there. The crypts wind on for miles. There's forgotten history hidden down there too, old scrolls and records, covered in cobwebs."

"Are you ... you sound bummed you might not end up there," Sokka says tentatively. 

"No," Zuko says. "You're right, funeral customs are for the living. I care about what happens next. I care about my destiny. I guess I'd rather my body be burned, because I don't like the idea of feeding insects, but it doesn't matter." The lisping, fiercely emphatic way he spits out _the idea of feeding insects_ makes Sokka wonder whether Zuko saw a decaying body teeming with carrion mothflies or spider maggots at some point in his travels. "And if I am cremated, I don't care where the ashes end up. It won't matter."

Just as the distasteful odor of their outdoor bathroom isn't particularly conducive to jerking off, the conversation about death and burial practices and now insects hasn't been all that suited to what Sokka's been contemplating, but whatever. Zuko's been tied up for three days straight, he'll adjust.

"C'mere," Sokka says, and Zuko looks over at him warily, as though he isn't sure what Sokka wants-- or maybe like he knows exactly what Sokka wants-- but he approaches. Sokka keeps his knees jutting out in front of him to hold the space open, to keep Zuko from settling down too close to the mattress. "Turn around and sit," Sokka tells him, and this instruction Zuko follows with no hesitation. By now, the command is a familiar one to Zuko, and probably strongly associated with getting his gag removed and his wrists untied. Sokka feels guilty for a second for abusing Zuko's trust in him, but it's for a good cause.

Instead of subsequently untying Zuko, Sokka drops off the edge of the mattress, scooting forward until the insides of his thighs are carefully just shy of being pressed against Zuko's butt and thighs. Zuko's head swivels around, first to one side, then the other, trying to get a good look at him.

"What-- what are you doing!?" Zuko asks, high and nervous, stumbling over the words, his arms jerking like he's instinctively trying to yank free of his bonds.

"This," Sokka says, somewhat inadequately, and then he reaches around to Zuko's warm thigh, lays a hand on Zuko's leg and slides it upwards with all the smooth confidence he doesn't feel.

Zuko's breath catches even as his back stiffens. Sokka keeps sliding his hand up until he reaches Zuko's groin, and then Sokka gently molds his fingers to the elfin and flaccid but already-expanding length of Zuko's cock. When Sokka's hand makes contact, Zuko gasps like he's been briefly deprived of air and given only a second to snatch in a breath. Sokka gropes him like that, starting the touch off slowly and teasingly, the way he himself likes it, just getting Zuko hard with small rubbing movements of the palm of his hand and little caresses of his fingertips.

Zuko needs almost zero start-up effort, though. Zuko's physical readiness and responsiveness is off the charts, and in a matter of seconds Sokka's feeling Zuko's erect cock through his clothes. Well, after three days of being tied up, Sokka'd probably harden embarrassingly fast too at the prospect of relief in someone else's hand. Sokka makes the circle of his fingers snug and finds a rhythm, rubbing up and down. 

Sokka's started to think he might jack Zuko off in silence start to finish, no further talking about it, when Zuko draws a breath and suddenly speaks up, and his voice is filled with sharp displeasure. "I don't want your pity, Sokka." 

Zuko sounds so hostile, Sokka wonders whether he's spent the past twenty seconds talking himself into believing things that aren't true, starting with the idea that Sokka's doing this out of pity. Sokka ceases moving his hand, but he leaves his palm flat up against Zuko's dick, because while not exactly happy, Zuko's statement wasn't a 'no' or a 'stop.' Despite the grating, oppositional tone and his forbidding words, Zuko's body reacts strongly to the cessation of the friendly over-the-clothes friction. Zuko's hips roll up at the first missed stroke, pressing his cock forward into Sokka's hand, and Zuko lets out a breath that sounds like a tiny sob.

"It's not pity, more like understanding or, uh, sympathy, and it sounded like you kinda do. Need it."

"Pity, sympathy, that's semantics," Zuko snaps, but his hips strain under Sokka's hand, his need like a thickness in the air, and Zuko seems unable to stop the next shift that grinds his cock up into Sokka's palm again. " _Agni_ ," Zuko growls, and Sokka isn't sure whether Zuko's angry at him or at himself. 

"My sympathy's going to feel incredible in a minute," Sokka jokes, but Zuko's good side in profile is stormy and serious. "Would you relax? This is not about pitying you, okay?"

Zuko's hips finally still even as his cock throbs in Sokka's hand. Zuko's body is responding to Sokka and his cock is all but begging for the attention, even if Zuko's holding out some token resistance for reasons Sokka isn't certain about. In his place, Sokka sure wouldn't be saying no. "Then why?" Zuko demands.

"Just being a pal," Sokka says with feigned nonchalance. He wants to do this because... he just wants to. He wants to hold Zuko's cock in his hand, to see what Zuko looks like under his clothes. Sokka wants to smell Zuko's sweat and feel him tremble, to stroke him and feel him come undone.

Sokka can't say any of that, though. Even a simple, dignified _I think I like you_ would be messed up given the part where Zuko's tied up and their prisoner, and _I want more of your smell_ could come off as unbelievably creepy. Anything Sokka can imagine Azula purring, he definitely shouldn't say himself. Sokka's newest conversational metric is untried but feels uncannily and instinctively right. "Listen, I can't untie you if the others don't agree, but I can help you out. Do you want me to stop?"

"I don't--" Zuko sits still for a moment with his back tense, considering, and he chooses his words clumsily but with care. "I-- no offense, but I-- I like you Sokka, but I don't want to owe you anything in this situation I'm in."

"I don't expect reciprocation," Sokka assures him. "I mean, you probably go to a bad afterlife for fucking a prisoner."

Zuko's head is still turned trying to peer at him, so Sokka can see the look of pure apprehension that crosses his face. Sokka's pretty sure Zuko stops breathing for a second, and when Zuko speaks, his voice cracks. "You want to fuck me?!"

Sokka winces. Of _course_ that would be Zuko's takeaway. Sometimes Sokka's lighthearted comments to Zuko go seriously awry; he has to remember Zuko is mistrustful from past experiences and garbage at reading people. Granted Sokka probably wouldn't say no if Zuko bent over the bed and asked for it, but Sokka's sure not going to bring that up right now. Zuko needs to chill out. "Sorry, poor choice of words, okay? I just meant-- you're tied up! I won't do anything to you that you don't want. Tui and La, do you really think I'm like that?!"

The taut line of Zuko's shoulders eases marginally. "No."

"I'm just trying to be, you know." Sokka searches for the right words, the words to relax Zuko. "A friend I guess. You won't owe me anything. I'll jerk you off, nothing else. Unless you want me to stop." Sokka gives him a second to let that sink in. "Do you want me to stop?" Sokka asks.

Zuko sits for what feels like a long time without answering. Zuko's silent for so long Sokka's about ready to take his lack of response as discomfort and pull away when Zuko suddenly inhales deeply and resolutely. "Yes," Zuko breathes, and his hips undulate up again against Sokka's hand. "No. I mean-- don't stop. Please."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Sokka says a touch smugly, oops, and he tightens his hand around Zuko's dick again. Sokka brings his other arm around Zuko's body too, alternately rubbing Zuko's cock through his pants and letting go to fiddle with the closures on said pants until he gets them open. Thank goodness Sokka owns his stolen pairs of Fire Nation pants, or it'd take him an eternity to figure out the bizarre quartet of miniscule metal hooks and eyelets, followed by the long descending line of stupid crisscrossing diagonal laces with their unnecessarily numerous grommets. Sokka's brown Fire Nation pants have a funny built-in buckle in place of a belt, and Zuko's pants apparently do too. Someday Sokka's got to ask Zuko why their pants have three different kinds of closures, but with Zuko needily thrusting up against his hand, now is not the time for delays. Not from fiddly clothing, and not from casual conversation. 

Sokka finally gets Zuko's pants loosened enough to reach in, and luckily the shorts-and-loincloth underneath requires considerably less fumbling around. Sokka unties the hidden drawstring and tugs, and then he's holding another guy's cock in his hand for the first time.

The flesh of Zuko's cock feels velvety in Sokka's hand, luxurious soft skin over steely hardness. Minus the instant feedback loop, it's hardly different than gripping himself. The only big difference is that Zuko's skin feels unnaturally hot to the touch and is noticeably growing even warmer.

Sokka's not sure whether Zuko pushes backwards or he himself edges forward, but over the next thirty seconds one or both of them close the two-inch distance between their bodies. Maybe they both shove towards each other a little. Zuko's wrists remain tied behind his back, and when they're closer to each other, Zuko's limp and curled-up fingers press lifelessly into Sokka's cock. 

Sokka isn't sure what to do about that, if anything, because he wasn't expecting to get any reciprocal action going on here. And indeed, he more or less promised he wouldn't accept any. Sokka gets hard, and he sees no point in even trying to stop the process because doing this is fucking hot. Sokka tries to ignore his arousal as much as he can, though he lets himself flex his hips a few times. Mostly he just keeps stroking. Zuko can't possibly miss what's pressing against his lax fingers, but Zuko has no control of where his hands are, being tied up, so he certainly can't mean anything by it.

Sokka gathers saliva in his mouth and pauses to swipe a wet lick across his own hand, from the base of his wrist to the tips of his fingers. Sokka grips Zuko's cock a little tighter and slides his other hand over Zuko's chest and down to those absolute washboard abs, feeling Zuko's rigid muscles through his shirt. Zuko's breath hitches, and then he lets out a tiny moan. Despite its quietness, Sokka's glad to be in a room distant from the terrace, with a closed door and with the ventilation of a chimney instead of a window or three. Sokka traces his fingertips along the distinct creases in Zuko's abdominal muscles, which even through cloth feel ridiculously well-defined.

Judging by the change in his breathing, Zuko appreciates the touches on his chest and stomach, so Sokka finds the hem of Zuko's shirt and pushes it up, sliding his hand over Zuko's chest skin-to-skin. Sokka hesitates, because maybe it's too personal, but then he puts his lips on Zuko's bare neck, down near the collar of his clean tunic. Sokka inhales against Zuko's neck and gets a hot and heady dose of Zuko's skin and of his shirt-- light sweat and the foresty, peppery smell of Zuko's bathing oil. Beneath the sweat and surface smells is a scent like pepper flakes and chile paprika, ginger and cloves and other herbs Sokka can't name, all the burning, novel spices he associates with the Fire Nation, and all overlaid with the lingering essence of sweet incense, like Zuko's clothes marinate in closets burning the stuff.

With his head tipped forward over Zuko's shoulder, Sokka can get a good look at the cock he's jacking off. Zuko's cock is about the same size as his own, with a nice amount of snug sheathe skin to play with. Zuko's foreskin is smooth and pale and barely covers the tip, and his cock has no prominent veins. The glans is revealed, pink and shiny, catching the light with a gleam when Sokka draws the silky sleeve of flesh back.

Sokka pumps Zuko with confident movements, enjoying the soft, sensitive, familiar-feeling skin. Sokka squeezes because it feels good to squeeze and to feel Zuko's reaction. A jolt travels through Zuko's torso, a hissing breath fills Zuko's chest, and the temperature of Zuko's skin rises another degree or two. Like holding Zuko's cock in his hand, stroking Zuko's cock feels weirdly natural, and when Sokka experimentally dabs his thumb against the slit in the glans, he finds plenty of wetness to smear around. After rubbing the slippery droplets around beneath Zuko's foreskin, Sokka drops his hand down, dipping again into Zuko's clothing, this time going for his balls. Zuko flinches for half a second, an instinctive jitter of fear through his muscles before he spreads and slightly bends his legs to facilitate Sokka's search, and then Sokka's holding Zuko's sack in his palm, cupping and shifting the weight of Zuko's balls on his fingers. Zuko's legs fall open further for him. It's a powerful feeling. If Sokka could've looked into the future anytime in the past year and known he'd someday hold Zuko's balls in his hand... well, even just a week ago he'd have said he'd squeeze, or aim and deal out a merciless upward punch, or both.

But now he just gently pats Zuko's sack, lets it slip from his fingers and returns to stroking Zuko's cock. 

Zuko's head tips back, rolling against Sokka's shoulder, surprisingly relaxed relative to a minute ago. The tension in his shoulders now is restless arousal, not fear or anxiety, Sokka's sure of it. Sokka captures Zuko's earlobe gently in his teeth, licking and sucking a little and breathing past the shell of Zuko's healthy ear, and he handles Zuko's cock faster. Zuko makes a strangled, desperate noise Sokka would be embarrassed to produce, but coming out of Zuko it's just incredibly hot.

"You like that?" Sokka says quietly, and he holds to that speed, that rhythm, that tightness of grip.

"Yes," Zuko moans.

"It's hot how much you need this," Sokka murmurs in Zuko's ear, and Zuko lets out a noise that's somewhere on the spectrum between a laugh and a sob, thrusting up into Sokka's hand.

Zuko's nimble fingers suddenly flatten and stretch out in a blind search for Sokka's cock, and finding it Zuko's fingers curl around Sokka's length-- ineffectually due to his wrists being tied at entirely the wrong angle for real action, but groping Sokka all the same. Zuko's graceful hands are clumsy but hot enough for Sokka to feel the considerable leap in temperature between having Zuko's curled-up fists jostling against his junk and having Zuko's open, wanting hands actively seeking to touch him, and Sokka feels his cock jump under Zuko's fingers. Zuko's intentionally feeling him up. Or feeling him down, if that's a corresponding figure of speech. Instinctively Sokka pivots his hips forward to mash against Zuko's hands with the solidness of Zuko's ass right behind them. Because Zuko's hands are badly angled, Sokka pushes right through Zuko's fingers and grinds, his shaft driving up and rubbing into Zuko's ass through both their clothes.

Despite the fact that Zuko totally invited thrusting by making grabby hands at Sokka's cock, Sokka stills his hips and holds his breath for Zuko's inevitable panic moment, but the expected freakout never comes. 

Zuko's head lolls on Sokka's shoulder, and he must be on the cusp because the panting breaths from his mouth begin coming out as plumes of faint but thickening gray smoke. Sokka's fazed for only a moment; hopefully the smoke won't get dense enough to render them unconscious, and if it does, oh well, at least he'll die doing something he loves. Cause Sokka's discovered he can deeply enjoy stroking off a desperate, needy ex-enemy who smells smoky and spicy and sweet all at once, who's turned buttery-warm and deliciously responsive under Sokka's hand. Sokka's not even getting off and the experience is still incredible. Tonight is going to memorably fuel his jerk-off sessions for months. 

Zuko lifts his head and drops his chin to watch himself fuck up into Sokka's fist. "Sokka," Zuko moans once, and then he groans like he's in pain and abruptly fills Sokka's hand with wetness in a copious series of pulses. Zuko comes with a lot more liquid than Sokka's used to, and his hips flex and roll again and again. More startlingly, half a second before Zuko spurts, a shower of orange sparks fly and fizzle out in the night air in front of him. Zuko's facing forward and Sokka doesn't see the sparks emerge, so he's not sure whether the source was Zuko's mouth or his nose.

Either way, damn.

The smoky exhalations outlast the sparks, like the rise and fall of exertion and arousal around the fleeting moments of pleasure. It's the first orgasm Sokka's witnessed someone else having, and though it's weird because firebender, it's a nakedly beautiful thing to watch, a thing of nature like a starfall or the Southern Lights. Despite the extra volume, Sokka skillfully catches most of Zuko's come in his hand, and he's pretty sure that what drips down lands on the floor between Zuko's legs, not on the outside of his pants. Sokka continues gently pumping afterward a few seconds at a time, the way he would do to himself.

In what seems like a particularly uninhibited moment of aftershock pleasure, Zuko lets his head fall back again to the support of Sokka's shoulder. Zuko's hips finally still, so Sokka ceases stroking but keeps holding Zuko's cock for a little longer, giving Zuko a chance to enjoy a cradling, undemanding post-orgasm touch. 

"Relax for a minute," Sokka suggests when Zuko's back and shoulder muscles tighten like he's about to sit up.

"I can't," Zuko says into the quiet, and he straightens up, lifting his head off Sokka's shoulder as though he's suddenly become selfconscious about its placement.

"I dunno, you had a couple of chill seconds there," Sokka says. 

Zuko flushes like he's been called out. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Sokka waits a beat. "I mean it, do not mention this to anyone."

"I won't," Zuko says after a fair few moments, like his response time has been drastically slowed. "I don't want your sister to kill me." Zuko turns his head to try to look at Sokka, his good side a study in flattering shadows in the firelight, his eyes still that warm, gleaming dark-lit amber. "That was-- good."

"I have a lot of practice," Sokka jokes.

When Sokka takes his hand away at last, he scrapes his palm and then his fingers against one of the piled lilypad-looking leaves he stashed aside earlier for this purpose. Of course, when he gathered the leaves he was planning to wipe his own come off on them, not Zuko's, but that's okay, he has enough leaves to spare.

Sokka's dick is still throbbing, and he needs badly to come and when he does he's going to spurt with the force of a Fire Nation drill busting through a rock wall. But he can force himself to wait a little while longer. He is going to bring Zuko back out to the fountain and sit him down, and then Sokka is going to walk behind the side of the pagoda and jerk off. Finding relief should take about thirty seconds in his current condition. Sokka's about to pass Zuko a leaf of his own when he remembers Zuko's tied up. Sokka molds another leaf to the curve of his hand like a glove, gently collects Zuko's cock and runs the dew-soft leaf down the length of it. Zuko's flesh must be oversensitive, because his breath catches and he quivers a little.

As Sokka finishes cleaning him up, Zuko twists his shoulders farther around to half-face Sokka, and Sokka catches a glimpse of Zuko's cock soft and spent and wet against his opened pants. "You've been kind to me," Zuko whispers in a way that makes Sokka feel guilty, because he really hasn't been especially kind to Zuko at all. "Can I-- express my gratitude?"

Sokka's caught with his mouth open, because ... there are probably only two things Zuko can do with his hands bound behind his back, and neither is anything Sokka dreamed would be happening tonight. Sokka's brain is suddenly overcome with the mental image of Zuko sitting on his lap instead of nestled against the juncture of Sokka's inner thighs. He imagines Zuko bouncing on his cock, Zuko's hands still tied behind his back, Sokka's hands under his asscheeks for support. Sokka's stomach lurches.

Sokka's achingly hard. And he's realized he desperately wants to know what Zuko looks like naked. Seeing Zuko's cock, hard and leaking and aroused before, now smaller, wilted and satisfied, is suddenly no longer enough. Sokka's seen and handled the restricted goods, and yet he only wants more.

"How would you do that?" Sokka asks slowly, and Zuko licks his lips. Zuko slides away, coiling his legs under him and turning to face Sokka properly, drawing closer again on his knees and settling down on his calves. Zuko's taller, and kneeling in front of Sokka, who's flat on his butt on the floor, Zuko's a few inches higher, forcing Sokka to look up at him. 

"You'll need to get your cock out for me," Zuko says.

With a heroic effort Sokka ignores this incredibly tempting suggestion and declines, encompassing his own body with a gesture and a downward jerk of his chin. "I get that you want this bad, I mean, who wouldn't, but I told you nothing else would happen and I meant it."

Even in the firelight, Sokka can see how Zuko reddens at the light-hearted but totally sexy show of egotism, like he really does want Sokka badly. "Take my face in your hands and fuck my mouth," Zuko commands, his tone at odds with the color on his pale cheek.

The proposal is bold, like Zuko's attacks were when he was still their enemy. Pulling out all the stops, not a guy to ever hold anything back. Not to mention Zuko says it like having Sokka's cock in his mouth is his inalienable right, not to be denied. The words galvanize Sokka as they were meant to, and he feels the electrified, ever-greater desire stirring low in his stomach. Sokka does take Zuko's face in his hands, but only to angle Zuko's chin down to study him. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yes," Zuko says with certainty. "I want to do more."

"You made crystal clear you didn't want anything else to happen, now you want to do more?" Sokka's as dubious as he is amused, although he's horny and enticed more than anything else. The last thing he expected right about now was Zuko pressing to get him off in return.

Zuko's response is to lurch forward, ungainly without his arms and hands for balance, and his mouth lands clumsily against Sokka's. It's a good thing Sokka had his hands on Zuko's cheeks, because his position enables him to catch Zuko's shoulders and stabilize them as he kisses Zuko back, and once Zuko's supported and contact is made Zuko's lips and tongue have all the finesse his restraints prevent. Sokka thinks about pulling Zuko forward to straddle his lap, and he wants to do it so much his fingers twitch around Zuko's upper arms, but he knows he shouldn't do that. 

Sokka's hips are thrumming with need, his arousal a constant drumbeat monopolizing his attempts at thoughts.

"Do you want to fuck me?" Zuko whispers into his mouth.

Sokka's world rocks. "Yes," he says without any thought except _yes_ , yes he wants that, and then he shakes his head. "No. Not like this," Sokka says, sliding a hand down Zuko's arm to the rope tied behind his back, gripping the thick column of pale skin and muscle that Zuko's pinned and compressed wrists make. "Buddy. Not like this, okay?"

"Yes," Zuko says insistently. "I trust you."

Sokka shakes his head again, more faintly this time. "Where is this coming from? You were afraid before that I'd want to do anything to you."

"I changed my mind," Zuko says, like that adequately explains everything. Sokka can just imagine what Katara would say. _See how fast he changes his mind?_

"Seriously, what the hell," Sokka says, baffled. "Do you just -- like a challenge or something?"

Zuko smirks a little. "I do, but that's not what this is about," Zuko says. "What can I do then? For you."

"Nothing," Sokka says honestly. Gently but firmly Sokka uses his grip on Zuko's upper arms to set Zuko back on his heels. "I said I wouldn't do anything to you. I promised not to untie you, and I'm not going to do that to you while you're tied up. Remember what I said about a bad afterlife?"

"I don't care," Zuko says bluntly, shockingly heedless of the matter of Sokka's eternal soul. "You don't actually believe that."

Sokka stares at him, exasperated and aroused past the point of discomfort, and getting a little annoyed now too. All Zuko's doing is delaying the moment Sokka will be able to give himself release. "Okay," Sokka says with exaggerated patience. "Fine, I don't know if I believe in an afterlife, and I don't think if we had sex right now the universe would punish me for it. But I do think it would be kind of wrong, and I don't want to treat you in a way that's fucked up. Unless you can explain to me in a way that makes sense why you've changed your mind, we're done here."

"Honor demands reciprocity," Zuko says, which in the context of a handjob that Zuko physically can't give has to be the funniest thing Sokka's heard this week. Sokka smothers his laugh and represses the simultaneous impulse to smack his forehead with the palm of his hand, because Zuko takes his whole honor ethos way too seriously.

"Zuko, handjobs have nothing to do with honor," Sokka says with as straight a face as he can muster.

"Do you really want to talk about it? I could feel how hard you are," Zuko says, his eyes dropping down to the tent in Sokka's pants. "Slide my pants down and fuck between my thighs." Again Zuko makes what could be a suggestion into a command.

"Zuko--"

Zuko sways towards him, deep in Sokka's orbit, close enough to kiss. "I want to please you," Zuko rasps almost breathlessly, and his good eye is wide and sincere. "I'll do whatever you want, I--"

"Zuko, there's honestly only so much I can take," Sokka interrupts, balling both fists in the lapels of Zuko's overtunic because he needs to have something in his hands, needs to squeeze something, needs to communicate his fucking feelings, which come down to _you smoking hot royal asshole, stop tormenting me_. Sokka twists the silky fabric with both hands, as though pulling Zuko closer or being rougher is going to make him better understand he's playing with fire (heh, now there's an amusing metaphor) and if Zuko persists he's going to get some of what he's asking for.

Zuko smiles on one side when Sokka grasps and tugs at fistfuls of Zuko's clothing, a knowing familiar smirk like the old Zuko, like he knows he'll win and get what he wants. "Take out your cock and let me suck you," Zuko says, changing tactics, tilting his head challengingly like he's baiting Sokka. Sokka's cock throbs painfully at the words, and then he's more or less done questioning what's behind Zuko's dramatic change of heart. Sometimes the universe doesn't want him to do the right thing. 

Sokka gives up and gives in, all at once.

"Okay, fuck it, I tried," Sokka says, and he wastes no time in untying and jerking open his shorts and pants. Sokka used to wear the regular wrapped loincloth of his people, but he likes the simplicity and convenience of Fire Nation undergarments, which combine a pair of drawstring shorts with a slit and an attractively hanging center panel, convenient both for easy peeing and for yanking open so a bossy prince can dip his head into your lap and suck your cock. Since Sokka stole a few pairs of them from Fire Nation clotheslines, he's never going back. The Fire Nation is terrible, but two things they do right are underwear and rope. Hm, textiles. 

Some members of the royal family might potentially be okay too. 

Zuko inclines his head with an odd formality, as though in thanks or as a sign of respect, still smiling his lopsided corner smile as Sokka lets his cock out into the cool air, only covering himself with his hand. Sokka suddenly feels exposed, and a surge of doubt flashes through him. He did, after all, just see Zuko exhale smoke and gasp out a volley of freaking sparks. "You'll be careful, right?" Sokka asks, and who can blame him for a flurry of last-minute anxiety? He's about to let Zuko of all people suck him off. "No firebendery stuff?"

Zuko shakes his head solemnly, so Sokka shifts his hips forward and drops his hand to present Zuko with his dick, which is hard as rock and already slick with streaked precome around his glans. Zuko leans down and delicately sips the tip into his mouth before he awkwardly sinks his head down, and Sokka's body surges when Zuko starts to suck him. Zuko's mouth is hot, perfectly, blissfully hot. Sokka melts into the feeling despite the scary background awareness of teeth and firebending, and he thrusts shallowly a few times before pushing deeper, at which point Zuko gags and chokes and pulls back.

"Sorry," Sokka whispers.

Zuko mumbles a noise that sounds like forgiveness.

Zuko ambitiously tries to deepthroat him and gags again, but his teeth don't graze Sokka, and he attempts the move again mere seconds later. The effort alone gets Sokka close. Zuko is genuinely trying to please him. Zuko lacks fine control without his hands or arms, and he holds his neck and spine straight and firm and moves his entire upper body up and down, probably giving his core a good workout. Zuko probably wouldn't be able to manage this at all if his torso weren't so damn well-muscled. Sokka's not sure how this act is supposed to look or work, exactly, but he's pretty sure the experience would be different if Zuko had the use of his hands.

"I don't think I've been very kind to you at all," Sokka says in a rush, his conscience bypassing his brain-mouth filter to make a last-ditch effort.

Zuko pulls back and sits up to look Sokka in the eye, like talking about his captivity is too serious to pair with sex stuff. "You don't tie me too tightly, and you've defended me to the others, and ... this--" Zuko seems unsure what to call the jerkoff session of a minute ago. "This was kind. Like you said to Katara, you um-- treat me like a person." Zuko bends back down over Sokka's cock.

"That's probably not a great reason to suck my dick," Sokka says, catching Zuko's head and sliding both his hands through Zuko's hair, the bastard has _hair_ now, a full head of thick floppy clutchable hair, and why the fuck is Sokka cockblocking himself?

"But I want to," Zuko repeats quietly. "And I know you want to."

"Gee, what gave it away?" Sokka says, flexing the pelvic muscles around his cock to make it bounce, and Zuko actually cracks a small smile at his dumb joke. Sokka's not sure why, his thoughts are whirling or maybe he's not thinking at all, but he grabs Zuko's upper arms, drags Zuko up to his mouth and kisses him. Zuko's mouth feels seething hot under his, and Sokka tastes his own precome on the edge of Zuko's palate. Sokka wraps an arm around Zuko's neck, clumsy from desire but hopefully just translating as enthusiastic, while he presses their faces close, and as he rises to one knee and pulls their bodies together he grinds his dick up against Zuko's. Zuko's cock is probably still just on the borderline of oversensitivity, because he makes a sweet, soft, choked little noise.

When Sokka pulls away, Zuko's panting like he hasn't figured out how to keep breathing while they kiss, and Sokka wants nothing more in the world than to get his dick back in Zuko's mouth. Sokka drops his ass back down to the stone and guides Zuko's face back down to his cock. Zuko opens for him, and then Sokka's cock is enveloped again in that unbelievable wet heat. 

Yet Zuko sucks him only a little longer before pulling off him again, bobbing unsteadily. "This is hard on my back and neck with my arms tied," Zuko admits. "Can you lie on the bed and take my face and fuck my mouth?"

Sokka's beyond arguing and beyond pretending to be cool, like this is no big deal when the thrill of having his dick sucked is racing through him and the need pulsing in his balls has risen to a terrible throbbing pressure he can't think past.

"Like, you want us both lying down?" Sokka asks, trying to visualize what Zuko wants, what will be comfortable. Zuko nods, so Sokka compliantly gets up and lies down on the far side on the mattress. The grass padding inside instantly half-flattens under Sokka's weight, and then Zuko's up and crawling forward on his knees. Zuko awkwardly drops himself onto the pallet, and he adjusts by wriggling his body down like a snake until his face is back in front of Sokka's groin. Then Zuko noses Sokka's cock, licking the tip a little like he wants to taste.

Licking and teasing is all well and good, but Sokka's need urges him on and he wants back in Zuko's mouth. Sokka wants that heat around him, and he wants to be sucked again, and when Zuko opens his mouth wider Sokka doesn't hesitate. Sokka sets a hand on the back of Zuko's head to hold him in place and tentatively rolls his hips forward, taking Zuko at his word that he wants his face fucked. Sokka tries not to push in too far, looking down at their prisoner, who wanted this, who demanded to suck Sokka's cock like it was his birthright. Sokka has a thought to keeping tabs on Zuko's ability to breathe and general level of okayness, but he can't tell much from the top of Zuko's head, and that's all he can see. 

"Is this better?" Sokka manages, forcing himself to pause after a couple of slow thrusts. 

Zuko hums a positive response, for which Sokka is grateful because he's not sure he could take the delay of another position change. So as Zuko rests his head still on the bed, with only his tongue in motion, circling and moving over Sokka's cock, Sokka starts to fuck his mouth.

This sex act has a deep sense of tension about it, because Sokka instinctively wants to hold Zuko's head in place and shove his cock in as far as he can push, but he knows that's absolutely not an okay thing to do. Zuko's already gagged twice doing this, and that was when he was in a position of greater control. Sokka's hyper-conscious of his own fear of choking Zuko, of hurting him, and with Sokka's cock in his mouth, now is not the time to do anything to upset him either. Sokka keeps modulating his light thrusting into Zuko's mouth, keeping his hips in check and moving as steadily as he can manage. 

Keeping one hand on the back of Zuko's soft head, Sokka uses the other to wrap two fingers around the base of his dick. He can move his hand enough to slide a little up and down, letting Sokka thrust harder without fear of choking Zuko, while at the same time giving his shaft the love that Zuko can't manage with his hands bound behind him. Sokka holds that last thought in his mind alongside the pleasure of Zuko sucking him-- he's _fucking Zuko's mouth_ , Zuko's willingly sucking him off with _Zuko's hands tied behind his back_ , it's fucked up but hot as flames and if Sokka ever thought this scenario could happen in a million years--

Zuko's tongue streams around his cock, lapping at him in short and long licks, swirling around the head of his cock and lavishing Sokka with sensation. Sokka adds a third finger around the base of his cock so he can thrust in harder and faster. Three fingers will be better than two. This way, when he inevitably loses control and just fucks Zuko's mouth as hard and fast as he can, he'll only go in so far. Sokka's aleady close, and the eager licking combined with petting Zuko's messy black hair brings him right up to the edge. 

"Can I, uhh--" Sokka's question gets lost in an unabashed moan, and he tries valiantly to recover his wits before it's too late. "Can I come in your mouth?"

Sokka grits out the question, slightly amazed he's able to finish it at all, hearing his own voice rise out thick with need, and then he's sailing past the point of no return. Sokka spares a fraction of a second to hope Zuko answers quickly, because he's about to go _off_.

Zuko nods, barely perceptibly, and hums around Sokka's cock. Sokka winds a hand in Zuko's hair, still holding back from what he really wants to do, which is to press both hands on the back of Zuko's head, force Zuko's head all the way down and brutally fuck his mouth balls-deep, but Sokka allows himself to thrust fast and forcefully into the protective ring of his fingers and Zuko's mouth beyond. Sokka rocks his hips fast, and he's on the cusp and then he's there. Zuko takes him in a satisfying amount as Sokka unloads into Zuko's mouth. For a few seconds nothing exists in the world except Zuko's mouth sealed hot and wet around his big mouthful of Sokka's cock and the pulses of come as Sokka shoots in blissful release. Ecstasy radiates from his cock, and as Zuko swallows several times in rapid succession Sokka can feel the suction.

Presently Zuko stops sucking and licking and lies quiescent on the bed. Zuko keeps Sokka's cock in his mouth and allows Sokka's hand to keep resting on the back of his head, holding a handful of his hair. Zuko's stillness feels like an invitation, and perhaps because Zuko somehow slowed and stopped stimulation at just the right times, Sokka doesn't feel unbearably oversensitized, so Sokka leaves his cock in Zuko's mouth instead of pulling out. Zuko quietly holds Sokka's cock in his mouth like he doesn't need to be told what to do. Sokka hadn't thought about it, really, but he'd figured with oral sex the cocksucker would pull away after the... (cocksuckee? _recipient_ , let's go with recipient) finished. When Zuko continues to stay put, only tilting his head back slightly, Sokka lingers far longer than he needs to, holding himself at the root and just sort of staring, half-admiring the way his cock looks partway inside Zuko's beautiful face, half-blank and without thoughts except: _that was hot, blowjobs are amazing, sleepy now_. And...

 _Zuko's fucking gorgeous._ Zuko's gaze flicks up to his, and Sokka thinks Zuko's eyes look wet and a bit red, but the room's too dark and Zuko lowers his eyes too quickly for Sokka to be sure of what he saw.

"Are you okay?" Sokka asks him.

Zuko makes a noise around him that sounds like 'mmhm', so Sokka leaves his cock where it is, just feeling the heat and wetness of Zuko's mouth, plus the slight undulation of tongue and tiny trace of suction when Zuko occasionally swallows saliva. Sokka uses his hand to bob his cock up and down from the base once, bouncing gently against Zuko's lips and tongue. With his other hand Sokka strokes Zuko's hair, petting his head. Zuko makes a soft, relaxed sound, so Sokka keeps petting him, from crown to nape, trailing fingers over and in his hair, from side to side and back again. 

Storing his cock post-blowjob in Zuko's mouth has a natural time limit, though, at the angle at which Zuko's neck is leaned back, and after another minute Sokka's dick has receded and softened enough to fall out. Zuko's lips plump out and purse in what could pass for a kiss as the tip of Sokka's cock slowly, soundlessly slips out. Watching and feeling Zuko basically kiss his cock makes Sokka want to kiss Zuko's mouth. Zuko keeps his eyes closed.

Not until Sokka removes his hand from Zuko's hair does it occur to him that though he thought to check whether it was okay for him to come in Zuko's mouth, by holding Zuko's hair and keeping his cock in Zuko's mouth so long, he kind of forced Zuko to swallow his load. Not just some, but all of it. Zuko could have pulled back or wrenched away, though. Sokka would have let him go. He wouldn't have been mad if Zuko spat it out into his bedroll, either, because Sokka's tasted his own come and it's disgusting. But Zuko looks to have swallowed it all of his own volition.

Zuko rolls onto his back slowly, stretching his shoulders back to the extent he can, and wincing, probably because he's putting the pressure of his body weight on his tied hands. In the relocation and with all the shifting around, Zuko's pants and shorts have slipped down his hips, leaving his cock exposed to the air. Zuko's half-hard. Sokka props himself up on his elbow and takes a second to admire the view before Zuko rolls onto his side, facing Sokka's cock again.

"Persistent bastard, aren't you," Sokka says, and he's surprised by how affectionately the words come out.

"You already knew that," Zuko says dryly, hoarser than ever.

"Get up here," Sokka says, patting the empty place next to his chest. Zuko pulls his knees up to his chest with a grimace, which makes Sokka think about the fact that Zuko started out kneeling on the stone to suck him. "Shit, that must have hurt your knees before."

Zuko sits up to scoot his butt upwards on the bed, then flops facedown next to Sokka, turning his face to the side as his chest hits the pallet. Sokka's sure Zuko could use his fantastical ab muscles to lower himself gradually to his belly, but he seems exhausted right now and beyond caring. Sure enough, the next words out of Zuko's mouth are: "Yeah. I don't care."

By necessity they're lying close due to the narrowness of the bed. Sokka sets a hand on Zuko's cheek, then runs his fingers up and back through Zuko's wonderfully thick hair. Zuko's eyes on him are soft and strangely fond.

Sokka's sleepy, but he can stay awake if he tries. Sokka closes his eyes for only a minute, drifting.

Sokka dreams. Sokka most often dreams he's home again in the South Pole, and that's where he starts out, back in his own bedroll. Without transition he's on Bato's boat ice dodging again, but instead of steering around rock-outcropping substitutions they're in the South Pole, with a ton of ice all around. But Sokka's alone, and the waters are calm, and there's no wind to catch the sails. The ocean only smoothly rocks the boat as Sokka looks around, wondering which way to steer, seeing no landmarks he recognizes. 

Feeling a presence behind him, Sokka turns to see a figure standing tall directly at his back in the stern of Bato's boat. Sokka almost can't look up high enough to see the man's face, but Sokka knows it's his father. Sokka says something, a greeting, but his father makes no answer, and even when Sokka strains to look all the way up, the sun shines too brightly in Sokka's eyes to see his father's face. Sokka's snow-blind. The boat drifts and rocks.

In his next moment of awareness, someone's calling him from far away. Sokka stirs, gradually becoming aware that he's dreaming, and he wakes to Zuko saying his name while nudging him. Sokka's got a sharp knee digging into his thigh, and Zuko's chin is pressing down hard against Sokka's shoulder. Also Sokka's lying on his bedroll atop a truly shitty excuse for a bed. And yet, totally comfortable.

"Sokka," Zuko says clearly. Even through the veil of sleep and dense blur of waking, Sokka processes that he likes the way his name sounds rattling out of Zuko's mouth. "Wake up."

"Ungh," Sokka mutters, but his eyes pop open, because he's in bed with Zuko. And they did stuff earlier. "Hey," Sokka croaks, because he would like to do more of that stuff in the future. "Uh, were you watching me sleep?"

"Um." Zuko's expression stays the same. "Among other things. There wasn't much else to do. Does that bother you?"

"Uhhh."

"I get now why you're 'Snoozles,'" Zuko continues. "You're hard to wake up."

"I wake up fast in an emergency," Sokka says. "My unconscious mind can detect subtle differences in -- oh man, what time is it?" Sokka suddenly sharpens, feeling less groggy. Some unknown amount of the night has passed since he fell asleep. There's no sunshine coming in under the door yet, nor have the earliest birds started to chirp the sun up, so that's something. 

"I don't know," Zuko says. 

"We might be past the Tophing hour," Sokka says, although he couldn't say why he thinks so. "Did you get any sleep?"

Zuko turns his head away, towards the wavering fire. "A little."

Sokka realizes what he's just done-- took a nighttime nap in front of Zuko. That was a shitty thing to do, even if he could barely help himself, and even if Zuko got a few minutes of sleep in too. Like eating in front of a starving man.

"Listen, uh." Zuko lurches off the pallet backwards, his body unbalanced and his movements awkward as he kneels on the floor. Zuko's good cheek is flushed, and he looks apologetic. "I kind of messed up your bed, a little. Sorry."

"Huh?" Sokka asks, and then he realizes there's a large wet stain drying approximately where Zuko's hips were when Sokka drifted off. Zuko must have rubbed one out against the bed while Sokka was asleep. "Oh," Sokka says dumbly. "Uh, no big deal." 

Zuko looks away, evidently embarrassed. Sokka's embarrassed too, a little bit, only because Zuko is. Secondhand embarrassment. But Sokka can fix this, maybe.

"You should have woken me up earlier, I would have helped. Or at least watched," Sokka says, going all out with the lechery with a small leer, and for once it's the right thing to say. Zuko's gaze returns to Sokka, and he smiles slightly like his abashment's been eased. "I was just feeling horribly guilty for falling asleep in front of you," Sokka continues honestly. "So it would take a way bigger comestain than that to bother me. We can call it even?"

Zuko splutters out a laugh-- a real laugh, no bitter under-his-breath simulacrum of joy and entertainment. Zuko has a nice, surprisingly normal chuckle. His brief outburst of amusement could sound like that of any of the boys Sokka grew up with. "Okay."

Sokka pulls himself to his feet, which feels less than pleasant with his body crying out for more unconsciousness. Having Zuko as a prisoner has screwed his sleep cycle. Sokka rapidly straightens his shorts and refastens his pants. "We should probably get back. This could be awkward to explain."

"Yeah, that's why I woke you up," Zuko says. "How-- uh, how are you going to explain it?" Zuko asks, faltering for a fraction of a second as he climbs unsteadily to his feet. Sokka grabs at Zuko's elbow to offer stability, unnecessarily as it turns out, but for the attempted save Zuko gives him a look from under his single set of eyelashes that makes Sokka's stomach slow-flip. Zuko's pants slide further down when he stands, exposing flaccid cock and sack and angular hipbones, everything slipped down far enough at this point for him to comfortably fuck or get fucked. Sokka would just need to turn him around and brush the overtunic to one side to uncover Zuko's ass. Zuko's shirt just barely skims the lean muscles around his slim hips.

Zuko stands there like the partial nudity is nothing, letting Sokka look at him. Sokka tries to commit the visual Zuko makes to memory.

"That depends entirely on who asks. Don't worry, I'm a master of making up nonsense. Unless it's Toph." Sokka steps in closer to pull Zuko's shorts up, tying the hidden drawstring, after which he pulls up and refastens Zuko's pants from the front, which in a way feels more intimate than holding Zuko's cock in his hand, especially when Sokka fumbles with the eyelets of the criss-crossing laces, forcing him to drop to one knee and really examine what he's doing in the dim firelight. Sokka glances upwards at one point and smiles.

"How are your knees?" Sokka asks solicitiously, because he didn't spare a single thought for them when Zuko was sucking his cock, and damn but the floor's unforgiving.

"Eh, they're fine," Zuko says quietly.

Sokka finishes with Zuko's pants and before he stands, Sokka slides his hand off the lacings and runs light fingertips down over the side of Zuko's cock, then squeezes once through Zuko's clothes. Zuko's eyes close while Sokka gropes him, his lips parting. Zuko's hips shift forward once, and Sokka can feel Zuko's dick quiver, like it's trying to stiffen and fill again under his hand. Zuko's definitely good and spent for the nonce, but his cock is a scrappy little fighter just like its owner.

They need to get a move on, though, not start screwing around again. "Sorry," Sokka says, standing up. "Easily distracted." 

Sokka glances up as he carefully opens the door, and judging by the sky he's going to be getting up in no more than three hours. Aang's probably not going to do a watch with Zuko at all. Still, the hour is earlier than Sokka'd initally feared.

They walk back and as they near the fountain, Sokka spots his bloodstained Fire Nation breeches crumpled and forgotten on the terrace. Sokka picks up the short pants and presses the legs under the water of the fountain, watching for a moment as the garment sinks and slowly drifts beneath the surface. Soaking in cold water is a quality, if not surefire, way to get stains out, or at least start getting them out. The fountain water is cool rather than icy, but by morning Sokka should have little difficulty scrubbing them away. 

Zuko plops down on the uneven mattress that's still lying around on the terrace, and for a minute they don't really look at each other because it's weird. While looking away, Sokka notices the cooking fires have diminished with the passing hours. The thought crosses Sokka's mind that he could untie Zuko and let him stoke them with firebending, but Sokka promised not to untie him and if he wasn't going to untie Zuko to get his cock sucked, he's not going to untie him for something so prosaic as tending a fire. Sokka stirs the ash around with their Toph-made poker to settle it, then adds a narrow log to each fire. 

When Sokka finishes stoking the fires and walks back over to the fountain, Zuko's staring into the middle distance so unhappily Sokka sits down next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. The pallet scrunches under Sokka's added weight. "Are you okay?"

Zuko shakes his head. "It's just-- Aang asked me to talk. I thought if I did, you might..." Zuko shakes his head again.

"We might what? Let you go?" Sokka guesses. _Let you go_ isn't exactly what he means, but the words come off his tongue too quickly to stop or change. _Let you join us_ is what he really meant, and what he should have said.

"It doesn't matter," Zuko says, but there's a throb in his voice, a catch like he has a frog in his throat or emotion welling up. It's all the emotion he displays, though. "I guess... I guess I'm homesick. I was homesick for years. But then I got to go home and it wasn't home anymore, so..." Zuko shakes his head. "It doesn't matter."

Sokka gets the sense that whatever Zuko's getting at definitely matters, but that the feelings contain too much of loss and pain for Zuko to channel them into words. "I get it," Sokka tells him. "You feel alone, you're adrift, I get it. And it does matter. I know you staked everything on coming here." Sokka drops his hand and leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "After Aang found the body of his airbending master at the Southern Air Temple, he involuntarily went into the Avatar state."

Zuko tilts his head slightly in Sokka's direction to indicate he's listening. 

"He didn't have any control of it then, and he was upset because the Air Temple was empty, and for the first time it hit home that he was alone in the world. He rose in the air, at the center of a cyclone that was starting to wreck stuff and was possibly going to blow us off the moutainside, maybe even level it, the Avatar state powers are pretty crazy. Well, you've seen them. The cyclone got bigger and bigger. But Katara brought him out of it by telling him we're his family now." Sokka fiddles with his thumbs, rubbing them together. "And well, now we are. I can't promise you anything, I don't know what's going to happen, but I think everybody, you know." Sokka searches for the words. "Understands you better now, enough to look past the stuff you did. Even Katara will, I bet, given time and maybe some chances to build trust. I think you'll have a place here, with us. If you just stick it out."

"Nothing else was ever an option," Zuko says, steely again, his moment of weakness and sadness and longing passed and gone in the space of heartbeats. Zuko won't allow himself to be anything but a walking pillar of strength, that much is clear.

Sokka gently takes Zuko's tied-up hand in his own (though not without a second of screwing up his courage, which is ridiculous because a few hours ago he had his hand in Zuko's pants and then his cock in Zuko's mouth). Sokka twines their fingers together. "You're not alone," Sokka tells him. "Okay?"

Zuko sits with that sentiment for a few long moments before he finally nods once.

"I'm going to tie your hands in front," Sokka tells him, untying Zuko's wrists. Sokka berates himself yet again-- he should have thought to take the initiative sooner in retying Zuko in an alternate configuration. They've kept Zuko tied with his hands behind his back only by Katara's early stipulation. Sokka should have done this two days ago, or at the very least before he fell asleep next to Zuko tonight.

"Actually," Zuko says. "Would it be allowed-- can you tie my hands over my head? Or-- in front of my chest?"

"Sure," Sokka says, only a little perplexed. Over Zuko's head? "Not down in front?"

Zuko shakes his head again. "I feel like that would raise questions I'd rather not answer."

Sokka grins in spite of himself. "Sure, put them however you want them," Sokka says, and Zuko flexes his arms once, stretching before he repositions. Zuko crosses his wrists in front of his chest, and Sokka ties him again loosely, leaving enough wiggle room that Zuko can simply slip his bonds if he so desires.

When Sokka finishes, he sees Zuko's looking at his mouth. Zuko quickly raises his eyes to Sokka's, but too late. Sokka saw. The temptation to lean in and kiss Zuko again comes over Sokka powerfully, but his friends are sleeping close by, well within visual range should anyone look over. The occupants of the line of mattresses show no signs of wakefulness, though, neither sounds nor visible stirring.

"Is there anything else I can do to help you sleep?" Sokka asks.

Zuko shakes his head, but he looks like he could use a little more bodily comfort, and Sokka decides to risk it. Drawing closer, Sokka leans in to give Zuko a kiss goodnight. Zuko's eyelids drop like curtains when Sokka's face approaches his, and his lips are pliable under Sokka's. Sokka keeps his eyes open even as Zuko's face looms close, getting one eyeful of pale skin and long dark eyelashes and one of burn-damaged flesh where the skin is thinnest. 

Sokka keeps the kiss short and mostly superficial, not tangling their tongues together or delving in too much, only licking a little at Zuko's parted lips, because he just helped Zuko unwind, the last thing he wants is to undo the night's relief by getting him all worked up again. Zuko takes his cue and makes no attempt to intensify the kiss, letting Sokka stay in charge. The submission is a turn-on marred only by the fact that Zuko seems depressed.

When Sokka pulls away, for a couple of seconds they just look at each other.

"Night," Sokka says, and he offers Zuko a small smile.

Zuko nods again, but there's unhappiness and exhaustion in and around his eyes, and there's no answering twitch of his lips for Sokka. "Goodnight."

Sokka prods Toph awake and heads back to his own room, because fuck this communal sleeping situation. Having tasted the sweet citrusy fruit of real privacy, Sokka refuses to go back. Sleeping in the morgue is fine. Sokka takes a last glance in the direction of Zuko's bed and sees Zuko lying flat on his back with his arms crossed over his chest, like a blooddrinker spirit out of a scary story.

Once safely ensconced in his room again, Sokka strips off Boomerang's harness and his boots. Clad in shirt, pants and shorts beneath, Sokka casts himself back down on his bed, avoiding the wet spot, and he falls quickly back to sleep.

*

Sokka wakes up later that morning to the sound of what's become Katara's standard wake-up yell. "Sokka, get up!"

"I'm awake!" he shouts back. Sokka's feeling sleep-muddled and hungry and his dick is hard and crying out for touch, all typical stuff. What's not normal is the brutal ache in his shoulders and the tension strung through his back when he shifts. He's feeling yesterday's efforts in his upper arms, too. After he answers Katara, he hears her footsteps moving away from his door. She knows well enough not to open it. Sometimes Katara has to yell at him a few more times to actually get him up, but this morning Sokka's inclined to rousing, mostly because of last night. _Last night._

Once he can't hear her footsteps anymore, Sokka pushes his pants and undergarment down over his hips, then impulsively shoves them down farther, past his knees. Taking his dick in hand, he spreads his legs, cups himself for a moment the way he cradled Zuko's softening cock in his hand after Zuko came, and begins to stroke.

Sokka has no idea whether Toph is awake yet, but it doesn't really matter. Toph might miss some of his moments greasing the pipe because she needs sleep like anyone else, but she knows basically every other time he jerks off if she cares to. The sleeping pallets aren't so thick or well-padded they keep all of him off the ground at once-- the grass stuffed into the pallet shifts under his weight and his hips or his butt quickly ends up against the stone, or near enough, given the thin cloth of the exterior. The bedroll Sokka spread out neatly got rumpled and pushed this way and that during sleep. Maybe he's a bit blurry, but Sokka doubts he has much more privacy here at the Western Air Temple than when he was finding a secluded spot in the woods or taking a three minute walk and standing around the corner of a cliffside. The complex Sokka's developed from knowing Toph can watch him, in her way and if she wants to, is probably going to stick with him for the rest of his life. Twisted by the world's youngest voyeur. And yet, Sokka thinks the epithet fondly, and he can't even blame her, because if he could secretly watch people he finds attractive have sex or get themselves off, he can't deny that he probably would, just a little bit. In the spirit of inner honesty, Sokka doesn't want to be a hypocrite about it. The difference between them is, Sokka would never dream of letting on about his extrasensory awareness to the people he'd surveil.

But if he grew up able to privately spy on people whenever he felt like it, he'd probably have ended up just as warped as she is, and just as disinterested in how intrusive her subjects might find her craft. As though the fact that she can watch people means it's morally fine for her to. 

Sokka is almost certain Toph likes him. In the _likes him_ likes him, interested in him, long-standing crush on him way. Sokka likes Toph too, although he's wary of her. She's pretty and cynical and fun to talk to, and Sokka sort of enjoys her open grossness in defiance of good manners and feminine normalcy. On the other hand, she's also kind of alarming, and twelve is too young to do the kinds of things hormones force Sokka to contemplate endlessly. Mom was three years younger than Dad, but it's gotta be different when you're older, and age seems unlikely to course-correct Toph's terrible sense of boundaries. Plus if they ever messed around she'd probably rough him up. Not that there isn't a certain appeal in that idea.

The truth is, the admiration feels nice, and Toph's a good enough friend never to interrupt him, at least.

Sokka usually likes to close his eyes and think about Suki, who is beautiful and a fucking badass, who kissed him and is definitely of an age for further _activities_ , but this morning he has a much fresher and more explicit memory to mentally play out. Sokka finds himself thinking most not about the blowjob, though that was undoubtedly the single most pleasurable experience of his life, but about the way Zuko so gratifyingly moaned Sokka's name when he came. Sokka can't put his finger on what was so satisfying about that, but he knows he wants to hear it again. Sokka takes a deep breath, pushing his shirt up and playing a hand across his chest, remembering the exhilarating scent and heat of Zuko's skin. In his mind's ear he hears the panic in Zuko's voice. _You want to fuck me?!_ Had it been simple fear? Or a touch of excitement too? And mere minutes later, low and seductive: _Do you want to fuck me?_

Sokka should have done it, should have said yes. Sokka pumps himself faster. He stopped short yesterday of encouraging Zuko to embrace the voyeurism because that's a dark inner secret and take-it-to-his-grave levels of personal, but although Sokka has deeply ambiguous feelings about the way Toph uses her abilities, in the heat of the moment the extra layer of awareness can be hot.

A surge of arousal tingles through Sokka's core, and oh yeah, Toph's skewed his sensibilities and she'll never even know it. Sokka didn't ask for any of this, but since meeting Aang he's learned to try to make the best of weird situations when he can. The situation with Toph is probably the strangest set of circumstances with which Sokka's been confronted, and making the best of this wasn't a conscious choice, but here he is. Sokka's on display now, and he spreads his legs a little wider for his fan club of one, though if Zuko ever gets desperate enough to jerk off in their makeshift toilet, Sokka would bet near anything Toph will eat that up too. Sokka knows he himself would. He thinks about the way Zuko's deft fingers stretched backwards for Sokka's cock, straightening as he sought to touch and crooking with determination when his fingers found what he wanted, and the earnestness with which he asked to do more, and the blissful, unnatural heat of his mouth. _I'll do whatever you want--_

Sokka comes within a couple of minutes, going from that horny, needy sexual-trance headspace to feeling kind of gross in the split-seconds space it takes to finish. Wiping his hand off on another of his stash of giant leaves, he reluctantly drags himself out of bed, groaning softly as he rises because _fuck_ are his shoulders sore.


End file.
